


Pieces of Memory

by LilLostGirl



Category: Iron Man (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Alpha Bucky Barnes, Alpha Steve Rogers, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Angst and Feels, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Angst with a Happy Ending, Aunt Pepper Potts, Avengers Family, Bucky Barnes Needs a Hug, Canon Divergence - Avengers (2012), Canon Divergence - Captain America: The First Avenger, Canon Divergence - Iron Man 1, Canon Temporary Character Death, Deal With It, Domestic Avengers, Domestic Bliss, Domestic Fluff, Eventual Bucky/Tony, Eventual Fluff, Eventual Relationships, Eventual Romance, Falling In Love, Fluff and Angst, Gen, Happy Ending, Happy Tony Stark, Howard Stark Lives, Howard Stark's Good Parenting, Howard and Steve are Soulmates, Hurt Loki (Marvel), I'm redeeming Loki, Implied Mpreg, Kid Tony Stark, Loki (Marvel) Feels, Loki (Marvel) Needs a Hug, M/M, Mating Cycles/In Heat, Mpreg, No Underage Sex, No beta we die like mne, Oh look, Omega Howard Stark, Omega Tony Stark, Omega Verse, Parent Steve Rogers, Peggy Carter & Howard Stark Friendship, Protective Pepper Potts, Protective Steve Rogers, Romantic Soulmates, Soul Bond, Soulmates, Steve Rogers Needs a Hug, Steve Rogers is Tony Stark's Father, Super Soldier Serum, Temporary Character Death, Tony Stark Has A Heart, Tony Stark Needs a Hug, Uncle Nick Fury, Working Out My Feelings Through Fic, clearly
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-04-03
Updated: 2020-12-14
Packaged: 2021-03-01 05:20:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 14
Words: 54,792
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23460025
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LilLostGirl/pseuds/LilLostGirl
Summary: On May 29th, 1996, Anthony Edward Rogers-Stark is born to a still grieving and eternally 30 year old Howard Stark. His mate has been missing for over fifty years and now Tony, his miracle baby, is all the omega has left of him. On that day, Howard vows he would do ANYTHING to keep this child, who is half him and Steve Rogers, happy and healthy and above all LOVED.And so he does.Tony Rogers-Stark constructs his first circuit board at four, under the guiding hands of his mother. He puts together his first engine at 6, to Howard's blinding smile. He also gets into his first fight defending a little girl from a bully, with the stories of his father's childhood ringing in his ears. He becomes a superhero, just like Captain America, at twelve years old. He is 100% his parents child... BOTH of their child.But Tony has always done all of this with his mother beside him. Howard was the one who performed open-heart surgery on Tony in a cave in Afghanistan. Howard helped Tony create his first suit and then built one of his own to join him. For 13 years, Tony has always gone into any battle with Howard at his side.Then Howard goes missing......and all hell breaks loose with Loki at the wheel.
Relationships: Bruce Banner/Betty Ross, Clint Barton/Phil Coulson, Howard Stark & Avengers Team, Howard Stark & Tony Stark, James "Bucky" Barnes & Howard Stark, James "Bucky" Barnes & Steve Rogers, James "Bucky" Barnes/Tony Stark, James "Rhodey" Rhodes & Tony Stark, Jane Foster/Thor, Loki/Stephen Strange, Minor or Background Relationship(s), Nick Fury & Howard Stark, Nick Fury & Tony Stark, Pepper Potts & Tony Stark, Pepper Potts/Natasha Romanov, Steve Rogers & Avengers Team, Steve Rogers & Tony Stark, Steve Rogers/Howard Stark, Tony Stark & Avengers Team
Comments: 267
Kudos: 562





	1. Child of Echoes

**Author's Note:**

> Strap in kids, this is gonna be a long one!
> 
> First of all, hello! Nice to meetcha. I'm LilLostGirl. I'm new here on AO3 but I've written a bit on Tumblr and Fanfiction.net, so I'd like to think I'm fairly proficient at it. This should be updated at least every other week for the most part. I don't know how long this will be. I'm aiming for 50 chapters as of right now but that's liable to change.
> 
> This is an A/B/O fic with soulmates thrown in for good measure. It's tony-centric, though he is a kid!tony. He's 13 at the start of this. It's mostly family feels but there will be a good bit of Howard/Steve in later chapters. Even later then that, Bucky/Tony, though both parties will be of age. Most of what you need to know is in the tags, and I will be adding to them as we go. Feel free to comment and ask questions or offer constructive criticism. 
> 
> Thanks, all! Enjoy!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “They’re gonna find him, Tones. He’s your mom. He’s Howard Stark. He’s been kidnapped dozens of times before and he always comes back,” Rhodey assured him. Tony swallowed.
> 
> “He’s never been gone this long before,” Tony murmured back, only lifting his face a little so Rhodey could hear. It had been nearly a month since the CEO had vanished, the only time Howard had been missing this long, Tony had been with him. The two of them had barely survived that and not unscathed either, the glow coming from his chest reminded Tony of that. Tony should be with him.

Of course he was grateful. 

He was.

He was also just a bit resentful. 

Staring up at a ceiling that was familiar but definitely not his own and lying in a bed he had spent nearly every other weekend in since he was eight, should make him feel safe. Hearing Rhodey’s steady breathing in the bed below him should lull him to sleep. That’s what all of these things had done in the past. But now, so far from home and so lost in more ways than one, Tony’s brain wouldn’t shut off. 

The thirteen year old boy rolled over in bed and sat halfway up to stare out the window from the New York apartment. From here, he could just barely see the lit outline of Stark Tower. The top of which held the penthouse where he’d spent most of his childhood.

Of course, there was the mansion in Malibu but that had always been more of a summer home to the two Starks. Howard, his mother, had been very intent on staying in New York. After all, this is where the omega had first met Tony’s father. This is where Steve Rogers had grown up and, barring that Tony could have his father in his life, the omega had resolved to make sure his Pup could feel as close to the alpha as humanly possible. Which meant that Tony had been born and raised in New York.

His mother had spent a majority of his childhood taking Tony through the streets of Brooklyn and echoing all the stories Steve had once told him all those years ago. He had tugged Tony along the busy Brooklyn streets; he’d swung Tony up over his head to sit upon his shoulders as he guided Tony in and out of restaurants and shops Steve had told the omega of; had held him snug against his hip as he had pointed out what used to be Steve and Bucky’s apartment. Howard had been quite intent on sharing everything of Steve he could with the little boy who was half Steve and half Howard.

And Tony was. His aunt Peggy has always said that he looked like a perfect blend of his parents. The remaining elderly commandos backed this up as well. Tony had always thought this couldn’t be true, what with how small and gangly he was, always had been. But then there had been the pictures. The black and white photos that came out of dog eared files. They were printed with the words **REBIRTH** on them, and Howard had sat Tony, who’d been all of 6 at the time, down to tell him. Tony’s father had been small and gangly. He’d also been sickly. That’s how Tony’s mother had met him. 

Tony had listened with wide eyes and rapt attention as Howard had explained who Steve had been before he was Captain America. He’d previously been tucked in to stories of the man for as long as he could remember. Howard had always been so animated when he talked of Steve and Bucky and the Howling Commandos. Tony had every poster and comic and action figure. He had seen every cartoon. But it wasn’t until Tony was six years old that he learned of his childhood and suddenly, being small and thin and gangly wasn’t so bad.

The boy swung his legs over the edge of his top bunk and deftly jumped down onto the carpeted floor, pausing to listen to Rhodey’s even breathing. Satisfied the older boy hadn’t woken, he tip-toed to the bathroom. He did his business and washed his hands before he leaned over and scrutinized his face in the mirror.

He’d seen the pictures of his parents, both young and old, and he could see it. His features had always been such an even blend of both of his parents. He’d always been so proud to look just like them both. " _The perfect blend_ ," his mother had always crooned while he brushed his hair. Tony had always looked like an even split of both his parents. He had his mother’s wavy chestnut hair, his upturned nose and high cheekbones; but he had his father’s crooked smile, strong jawline, and his father’s expressive baby blues ( " _the exact size and shape with the very same fire,"_ his mother’s voice echoed through his thoughts as he scrutinized them in the mirror). His skin tone was a fair bit lighter then his mother’s but darker then his father’s. An even split. He was an even split.

The thought had usually never failed to make him smile, especially because it was typically his mother who was saying the words, but right now those thoughts just made him feel tired. In the dark and quiet of the night, they brought tears to his eyes that he stubbornly blinked back. With his mother gone, those thoughts only made his lower lip quiver.

The door creaked behind him and Tony whipped around in his haste, scrubbing a hand over his face where a traitorous tear had escaped. Rhodey appeared in the open doorway, pajamas disheveled and eyes narrowed with concern as they lighted upon him.

“Oh, Tones…” he crooned, sympathetically as he crossed the distance between them too quickly for Tony to protest. It was quiet here and there were no cameras for him to have to be brave in front of, so he collapsed into the older boy. The 15 year old took it effortlessly, hugging him tightly as he bent slightly to slip an arm under the backs of Tony’s knees and heaved the preteen into his arms with an ease of practice. 

The smaller boy was dwarfed in size by him, Rhodey stood nearly a head and a half above Tony and had about sixty pounds on him as well. He turned and carried Tony from the depressing quiet of the bathroom to the hall. The newly presented alpha boy didn’t bother with a light, allowing the soft blue glow of Tony’s arc reactor to illuminate their way, as he padded down the hall and quietly crept to the living room. Tony hid his face in the crook of his friend’s neck, letting himself be comforted by the smell as Rhodey sat on the couch and bundled Tony close to him, curling his larger frame around the shaking boy. 

“They’re gonna find him, Tones. He’s your mom. He’s Howard Stark. He’s been kidnapped dozens of times before and he always comes back,” Rhodey assured him. Tony swallowed.

“He’s never been gone this long before,” Tony murmured back, only lifting his face a little so Rhodey could hear. It had been nearly a month since the CEO had vanished, the only time Howard had been missing this long, Tony had been with him. The two of them had barely survived that and not unscathed either, the glow coming from his chest reminded Tony of that. Tony should be with him.

Rhodey rubbed his back and hushed him soothingly, though he had no words for the younger boy. He merely held him in the dark of the night and tried to calm his shaking body. This wasn’t a panic attack but it was close and Rhodey had dealt with quite a few of those in the year since Tony and his mother had returned from Afghanistan. Tony had had his mother through all of those attacks though. 

Tony’s mother had held him through panic attacks and night terrors, through the cold nights that made his chest ache and through coughing fits that had cropped up courtesy of his reduced lung capacity. Now Tony’s mother was gone and Tony wasn’t alone, no Rhodey wouldn’t ever allow that, but it was clear the boy felt more alone than he ever had before.

They sat in the quiet dark of the living room, Rhodey rocking the other every now and again, his eyes flicked over to the clock sitting on the book shelf. The numbers ticked over to the next minute. 10:58 pm. Rhodey opened his mouth to suggest a game, his eyes falling on the console sitting at the base of the TV, but something else beat him to it.

The familiar music of a phone pierced the quiet, sounding off from down the hall in the direction of Rhodey’s room. The noise had Tony springing up from Rhodey’s lap and scrambling to get his bare feet on the floor. Rhodey didn’t stop him when he ran from the room, knowing better, he merely followed the younger male back to his bedroom and watched patiently while Tony retrieved his StarkPhone and pressed it to his ear.

His uncle's voice rolled deep and comforting from the speaker of the phone, “Kid?”

“Uncle Nick?” Tony replied, a question evident in his voice. Nick Fury had only ever called Tony directly twice, usually interacting with him through his mother.

“Tony? Where are you right now? We have a situation.” his voice was curt and to the point, but Tony was adept in hearing the warmth and concern directed at him.

“Rhodey’s. What type of situation?” he questioned, out of the corner of his eye he could see Rhodey lean in, obviously straining to overhear the conversation. 

There was a moment of hesitation before the man sighed, “ _A suit situation_.”

The teen paused, blood running cold. He knew exactly what his uncle was saying but there was a ringing in his ears and the pounding of his heart. A suit situation? He meant he needed Team Iron, his mother and him. Tony swallowed, he’d never gone out on his own before in his suit. Iron Man had always backed him up. They were a **team** and had been approved for the _Avengers Initiative_ as a **team**.

“Mom isn’t….” Tony started but Fury cut him off, his tone sympathetic, “I know, kid. I wouldn’t be asking if I had a choice. The world needs the Iron Patriot, at the very least.” 

Tony was properly standing and finding his shoes before he even processed the sentence. Rhodey handed him his bag, looking conflicted and as if he wanted to slip out the window with Tony. The teen knew his friend well enough to know Rhodey was considering it. He focused on the conversation with the Director of S.H.I.E.L.D. “Where?” 

“Stuttgart, how soon can you get here?”

It was simply a matter of a calculation and Tony did the math with ease off the top of his head. He offered the man his answer and then hung up without so much as a goodbye. The ringing in his ears grew louder.

Rhodey fixed him with a look, “You’ve never gone out without your mom before, Tones, you need backup.” he insisted. Tony shook his head and when the older boy moved to argue Tony gently took his bag from him.

“You don’t have a suit. The Iron Man armor is meant for mom, you wouldn’t fit and you don’t know how it works. Besides, someone needs to be here to cover for me when Mama Rhodes wakes up and I’m missing,” he offered the boy a crooked smile.

Rhodey was already caving, “Tony-”

“Uncle Nick wouldn’ta asked me if it wasn’t important.” Tony pushed and inwardly celebrated when he watched the boy break, “Fine, but-”

“I’ll be careful,” Tony tried to reassure as he pulled the window up that led to the fire escape. Rhodey held the tricky window open for him, “Better be, punk,” he muttered gruffly, looking worried despite the teasing words.

Tony flashed him a shaky smile that even he knew wasn’t reassuring, before he ducked out the window. He called over his shoulder a mild ‘Jerk’ without looking back, worried Rhodey would see just how not okay with this he was. He ran down the fire escape and hit the streets below.

  
  


* * *

  
  


It was worrisome how easy it was to catch a ride across town and sneak into the tower, but he was in his armor before he could really think any of it through, JARVIS’ voice humming calmly in his ear. Tony’s little special ability made the Iron Patriot armor actually impossible for anyone to use but himself and also made it ridiculously intuitive for him, so he faced the highwind and set off in the direction of Stuttgart, trying very hard not to think on how much he ached not seeing the red and gold armor flying with him or hearing his mother’s soothing voice over the comms.

His armor was much slimmer and sleeker than the Iron Man armor. His suit took into account his not quite baseline abilities, thanks to his partial dose of the serum courtesy of his father’s genetics. He was nowhere near as strong, he could lift just over half of what his father could, but his reflexes were actually quite a bit quicker and he healed just as fast, plus there was his little bonus ability. His lips quirked despite the thought reminding him of his mother.

His own armor was thinner and hugged him tighter, as he was quite a bit more durable than his mother. His armor was a dark blue, crisp white lines outlined sections of his armor while small sleek sections on the insides of his legs and arms were a dark red. A star glowed with his arc reactor at the center of his chest instead of his mother’s triangle. His helmet was blue and similar to his mother's but a bit thinner and his face plate was white with the glowing slits for eyes.

While he flew, he had Jarvis brief him on the situation, knowing Fury had sent the information over. The word god stumbled him momentarily and he had JARVIS reread that bit twice, scrunching his nose. Gods? Jesus, fuck. Okay, Whatever. Gods? Aliens? Madmen who pretended they were his family? It's not like it mattered. He'd kick ass and take names regardless. He'd do his mother proud regardless.

He descended over Stuttgart, Jarvis displaying needed info and statistics over his HUD as he zeroed in on where the action was. His eyes found the Quinjet first and without much of a thought, he was hacking the PA system as he flew on in, blasting music from the speakers like his mother always loved. Who was piloting the Quinjet had his lips quirking with fond amusement.

"Hey, Miss Itsy Bitsy! You miss me?" he hummed as he jumped in over S.H.I.E.L.D's frequency with some practiced ease. The video link JARVIS fed him had him watching the small quirk of her lips. He filed that information away for later. His mother didn't have the smoothest relationship with the spy, especially after the palladium poison situation, but the Widow had always seemed to have a soft spot for Tony and the small movement of her lips sent a pleased hum through the teenager.

As he dropped, his eyes fell upon the so called god, nearly snorting at his over-the-top and dramatic outfit. Tony felt his lips tugging into an amused smile as he eyed the antlers speculatively. Oh, he so wasn't gonna let this "deity" live that down. Despite all of his questionable fashion choices, the god fought with a practiced ease. He seemed to be only playing with his opponent, but that wasn’t what stopped his heart and nearly had him falling out of the air.

No, what did that was the man fighting the god, outfitted in a familiar red, white, and blue suit Tony knew nearly as well as his own.


	2. Masks of All Kinds

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “You’re saying you are Steve Rogers?” Tony clarifies.
> 
> A nod.
> 
> “Steven Grant Rogers.”
> 
> Another nod.
> 
> “Prove it.” Tony’s voice sounds hollow to his own ears and the ringing in his ears is back as he stares down the man who says he’s Tony's father. He feels like he can't breath.

Honestly, it was a tactical nightmare.

Steve would have picked any battlefield over the busy city filled with civilians. They started merely as spectators before fleeing and, despite the elderly civilian’s passion, it was honestly only poking a bear with a stick. Steve could sympathize. Oh boy, could he sympathize. That didn’t change the fact that it hadn’t done much good for him or any of the civilians in the so-called-god’s way.

He’d thought this would be simple. He had fought much more intimidating opponents, from entire armies to Red Skull himself. 

He shouldn’t have underestimated his enemy. 

Either way, the man was merely toying with him and Steve knew that. He wasn’t an idiot. He blocked every one of Steve’s movements and caught him unaware quite a bit before the battlefield changed.

It honestly distracted him, the PA system coming to life with some sort of music that he was, of course, unfamiliar with. It was coming from the Quinjet and at first Steve was confused because he didn’t place the former soviet assassin as the type for these sort of antics.

Then, the suit of armor dropped from the sky beside him. It caught him completely unaware before his brain tried to rationalize what he was seeing. He wasn't given any kind of Intel on a situation like this, but the suit had dropped on his side of the battlefield and seemed to be targeting Loki, so who was he to look a gift horse in the mouth. Besides, agent Romanov in the Quinjet didn't seem concerned.

The suit that immediately advanced upon Loki was a shining beacon of dark blue, only interrupted by the gleaming white lines that bordered each section of armor. A dark red color was painted on the diagonal planes of the insides of the arms and legs. The helmet was the very same blue but interrupted by a silver white metal face-plate with two glowing slits for eyes. In the center of it’s chest was a star that looked like it was a carbon copy of his own, though there was a glowing blue light emanating from it’s center.

The armored person raised both its arms in a battle position, the whir of some sort of weapon embedded in both palms and glowed menacingly while some more machinery slipped out from the plates of it’s shoulders. There wasn’t a lot of weaponry there as the suit was rather small and Steve was fairly sure the whole of it would only entirely come up to his shoulders, nevertheless the god seemed considerably cowed. Whether it be by the fact Steve now had back up, just the presence of the suit of armor itself, or if this was part of it's plan Steve wouldn’t ever know.

A voice pierced the intimidating quiet, mostly mechanical in sound but there was definitely a human touch to it, though it almost sounded too young, “One wrong move, Reindeer Games!”

The god lifted his arms in surrender and changed his armor to something a little less super-villainy. Steve, despite feeling a bit shown up by the armored person who’d joined him heaved a sigh of relief. His eyes flickered to his ally. Despite wishing he knew just who this was he was grateful. “Thanks.” he murmured, gruffly. 

The armor hesitated for a moment before nodding, eyes not leaving his opponent.

* * *

So...

going against the blond god…

Not one of his finer moments.

Whatever. It’s not like anyone could have done better. 

Tony tells the part of his brain that mentions something about his mother being able to do better, to kindly shut the hell up. It doesn’t matter. None of it does. His mother’s not here. Might not ever be here again. Tony’s all alone. 

Except maybe he’s not.

The sight of the man wearing what he knew had been his father’s armor had flummoxed him. Half his brain had been distracted calculating odds and percentiles, along with an explanation for how he could actually be alive. How long has he been back? Was he ever actually gone? Did Fury know? Fury had to know.

Was that even his father?

Asking JARVIS didn’t give him a solid answer. His AI merely cited what Tony already knew, that it was far more probable that the man in his father’s armor was a fake, not Steve Rogers. 

I mean, the idea itself was ridiculous, was it not? Steven Grant Rogers had gone down in the Arctic Ocean sixty-three years ago. Tony’s mother had devoted countless resources and endless time trying to find the Voyager and the Captain, but he hadn’t had any luck.

Tony would have known if he had. Howard would have told him. Right?

Right. His mother had never, not once, lied to him. Not where it counted beyond surprises and little white things. Tony trusted him. However, he didn’t trust the man in his father’s uniform. That couldn’t be his father. That man was not Steve Rogers.

Was it?

Once he’d been divested of his armor and had it safely stowed away, Tony allowed Agent to lead him to the room where apparently all of the others who were auditioning for Uncle Nick’s Boy Band were. 

Despite both himself and his mother being officially documented as Avengers, Howard had always loved to goad the Director by calling his little idea just that. 

“-Iridium. What do they need the iridium for?” he heard a voice ask as he entered the room where the group of ‘heroes’ sat gathered around a table. 

Agent Hill stood at the back near Thor. The so-called Captain sat with Romanov at the table. A brunette haired man stood nearest to the hallway he came in from. Tony didn’t have to guess who he was. 

“It’s a stabilizing agent.” Tony answered with every confidence. He walked into the room and pushed his shoulders a bit farther back at the looks he gathered. Romanov and Hill were the only ones who recognized him. Thor looked at him with confusion as did the man still wearing his father’s uniform. The brunette he answered appeared as if he recognized him.

“Means the portal won't collapse on itself, like it did at SHIELD.” Tony continued, moving toward the center of the room as he displayed the casual type of confidence years of being in the spotlight had taught him.

Tony grinned as he approached the god, “No hard feelings, Point Break. You’ve got a mean swing,” he tapped the man on the arm lightly as he continued where he was going. He headed for the console at the center.

“Means the portal can open as wide and stay open as long as Loki wants,” he finished his explanation before turning to face the console with concealed glee.

Tony performed his little show, trying to get all of the people watching him to focus on being displeased with him or annoyed or whatever so they wouldn’t spot him as he slipped the bug beneath a monitor. No one seemed to notice and Tony felt a surge of accomplishment fill him. His mother had been trying to get invited on this damn thing to do just this for weeks. At least Tony had done that for them.

“When did you become an expert in thermonuclear astrophysics?” Agent Hill asked him, lips quirking. Tony offered the answer he was expected to give, considering the prompting.

“Last night,” he hummed before continuing on to explain about Selvig’s notes with every degree of confidence.

“Does Loki need any particular kind of power source?” asked the man who could definitely not be his father.

Banner answered him before Tony chimed in and the two of them bantered while Tony’s mouth twitched into a grin. “Finally. Someone who speaks English.” as he headed in the scientist’s direction. He heard Not-Dad mumble something as Tony shook the brunette’s hand with a degree of glee, “It’s good to meet you, Dr. Banner. Your work on anti-electron collisions is unparalleled.” he offered the man a secret grin before descending into a bit of childish excitement, “I’m also a big fan of the way you lose control and turn into an enormous green rage monster.”

Banner runs an eye over him, but seems a bit amused by his antics. Tony blames his age as he curses himself for his words. So much for not seeming like a kid. Banner chuckles, “Thanks-”

He’s interrupted by the man who is currently squarely at the top of Tony’s shit list. Fury. “Dr. Banner is only here to track the cube. I was hoping you might join him.” he nodded at Tony. Tony pursed his lips intent on delivering a pointed blow about keeping secrets but the blond impostor heads him off.

“Him? He’s… he’s just a kid. What’s he even doing here?” asked the fake.

“Hey!” Tony yelped, “I’m not **just** a kid. If anyone doesn’t belong here it’s you!” Tony whirled on the so-called superhero stalking toward him. The man narrows his eyes on him, but as he looks Tony over he seems to find something that confuses him. Tony does as well. The man’s eyes. They’re blue. They’re just like his.

 _The exact size and shape with the very same fire,_ his mother echoes in his head. He’s aware blue eyes don't mean a damn thing. That he could be anyone. But Tony has stared at pictures of his father for so long he’s nearly memorized every one. And something dislodged in his throat at the sight of this man. This 'Captain' at the very least looks the part of Steve Rogers. His face is a carbon copy of the one he's stared at in pictures for years now. Hell, he's wearing some of those features. He feels nauseous. 

“Fury,” Tony growls without taking his eyes off the man who is openly staring at him as well. “Who is this?” he rips his gaze from the man to fix a glare on his uncle.

“Tony…” he sighs, rubbing the back of his neck.

“Don’t you Tony me!” he whirls on the Director, his fury rising up like bile in his throat. “You tell me! You tell me right now. Tell me that’s not the real Captain America. Tell me that man is not Steve Rogers. He can’t be.” his voice breaks a little at the edges toward the end and he wants to kick himself for the display of emotion.

He’s aware of the eyes on him. All of SHIELD has to be staring at him now. Romanov and Banner seem to get what’s going on. Thor and not-his-father are confused.

Fury goes to open his mouth, probably to feed him some bullshit excuse and try to tug him out of the room to someplace private, but the ‘Captain’ beats him to it, “I am.” his voice sounds a little hollow and a bit confused but Tony turns nevertheless.

“You’re saying you _are_ Steve Rogers?” Tony clarifies.

A nod.

“Steven Grant Rogers.”

Another nod.

“Prove it.” Tony’s voice sounds hollow to his own ears and the ringing in his ears is back as he stares down the man who says he’s Tony's father. He feels like he can't breath.

Not-Steve has recovered a bit by now and fixes him with an unreadable expression, though his tone sounds vaguely disapproving, “I don’t need to prove myself to you.” he argues.

Romanov pipes up before the teenager has a chance to reply, “Yes. You do.” she replies, glancing between them. “Captain Rogers is supposed to be dead. You could be anyone wearing his face. If we're supposed to be working with you, and I believe Fury means us to, then we deserve to know who we’re working with.” she replies with a voice of silken steel. 

Captain America pauses, looking her over with an unreadable expression, “I have the same right.” he offers back quietly. Romanov lifts a slim brow and counters, “You know us. We’ve met. _I_ might believe you are truly him, but _he_ ,” she pointed in Tony’s direction, “Clearly needs to be convinced.”

“I don’t know who _he_ is.” counters the man, nodding pointedly in Tony’s direction. Banner makes a sputtering noise.

“You don’t know who he is?” the scientist sounds incredulous and Tony finds himself vaguely incapable of speech. The man honestly looks like he’s telling the truth and Tony is fairly proficient at reading people. This man in particular seems like he wears his heart on his sleeve for just about anyone to read. Tony ignores the voice in his head that pipes up to remind him that Howard had described his father with those very same words.

Hope is forming somewhere down deep and Tony is not going to be able to handle it if it ends up being false. He swallows thickly, “I’m Tony Rogers-Stark.” he offers, voice surprisingly even. The man’s gaze flits to him, large expressive blues broadcasting emotional turmoil.

“ _Rogers-Stark_?” he questions, voice sounding choked. Tony can't handle this. 

“No more questions. Prove you’re him.” his own voice is tremulous at best. For once, the man doesn’t seem to want to argue with him. Though there’s shock written clear across his face and confusion… and grief. Grief the lengths Tony’s never seen before. 

“How?” he asks, quietly. 

Tony is surprised Fury hasn’t broken in by now. Though the Director has instructed everyone to return to work and is watching with an emotionless mask of a face. Tony finds his voice, “Tell me… tell me something only Howard would know.” he instructs, voice firm. The maybe-impostor flinches at his mother’s name and Tony feels that traitorous hope fluttering valiantly in his chest.

“How would that… how would that prove anything?” asked the man in a quiet voice.

“I’m his son,” Tony informs squaring his shoulders,watching as the man actually drops his mouth from shock. Before the man can say anything (and he looks like he’s about to spout off something that is definitely not Tony’s requested proof) Tony continues, “Tell me. Tell me something only he would know.” he insists.

The man swallows and he’s staring at Tony like he can’t get enough of him. Like Tony simultaneously holds all the world's problems and it’s solutions. He’s looking at Tony like… like… like Tony doesn’t know. The emotions written across that expressive face make Tony feel both like flying and throwing up all at once.

“We had a date,” Steve murmurs quietly, “We had a date. _A week next Saturday_.” he swallowed, looking far away, “He promised to show me how to dance.” his voice petered out to almost nothing at the end and Tony made an injured noise in the back of his throat.

Not an impostor. 

Not a fake.

This was Steve Rogers. 

This was his father.

Tony can’t breath. 


	3. Just Breathe.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> He turns to face his father, stretching his arms out so the suit can read each of his bracelets, “Wanna see a magic trick?” his mouth curls into a smirk as the suit flies forward and assembles around him. Tony grins.
> 
> The captain looks suitably impressed, awestricken really, eyes falling to the star on Tony’s chest that the teenager and his mother had designed to emulate the one on his father’s suit. Tony rolls his shoulders back, “Coming, Cap?” he inquires, heading for the downed engine.
> 
> “Always.” he replies without hesitation, and Tony tries very hard not to think on the promise that comes with the Captain’s tone.

Tony can't breathe.

He can't breathe and his face drains of color because this is his father. His mother had spent decades before he was born looking for this man. Had taken Tony himself when he was old enough on expeditions to look for him. Howard had told the world he wanted a body but Tony… Tony knew. Tony knew how desperately he was hoping the serum had saved him, that his Alpha was just out there… waiting for him to find him.

And now Steve Rogers is here… right here. And Howard is gone.

He can’t breathe. He can't breathe and he can't think over the sound of his own heartbeat; the rushing of blood and the steady thump-ba-thump of his heart drown out all the noise and the voices. He can’t breathe.

“-Ony? Tony? Kid, breathe.” A not entirely welcome voice is instructing him. There’s a rushing in his ears and Tony’s on the floor, sitting with his knees close to his chest. How did he get on the floor? 

Fury’s voice is the one calling for him, but Tony’s father is hovering right beside him. He looks as anxious and confused as Tony feels. But those blue eyes fix on him and something flits across them that Tony is familiar with: Determination.

The blond crouches in front of him, his own blue eyes stare back at him and Tony’s breath constricts. He hadn’t realized how much of his sanity relied on this Captain America not being Steve Rogers. He hadn’t realized he’d been staving off the panic attack that’s been building since he was told Howard was missing by sheer blind determination… and denial. 

But now Captain America is Steve Rogers. This is his father crouched in front of him and his mother isn’t here and everything is…

Everything is so wrong.

How can life be so messed up and unfair?

It should be Howard here. It should be his mother who was called in to assist with all of this bullshit. It should have been Iron Man fighting next to Captain America. Mom would have known what to do. He would have known this was Steve Rogers right away. He would have been thrilled instead of panicking. Two minutes in and Tony's already messed everything up.

He always fucks everything up.

Steve is saying something and before Tony knows what’s happening there’s a hand gently lifting Tony’s wrist and finding his fingers. Steve uncurls the little appendages from where they are tucked into his palm leaving little crescent shaped imprints on his skin. The captain tenderly lifts them to his neck and presses the pads of Tony's fingers down deftly against the man’s pulse point. 

This isn’t an unfamiliar move to Tony. This was Howard’s go to tactic at calming Tony down from any sort of attack. To ground him. Howard hadn’t mentioned where he got it from and now Tony’s wondering if Steve gets them too. Did Steve himself sometimes get so overwhelmed that he suddenly couldn’t breathe. Did the colors get too bright and the sounds too loud for him as well?

Questions aside, the steady thump of Steve’s pulse beneath Tony’s fingertips has Tony finally sucking in much needed air. The noise of which seems to relieve the super soldier in some way as the man’s shoulders drop with relief.

Tony focuses on counting the pulse beneath his fingertips and steadies his breathing with the sound. The world is dizzy with too much color and too much light and everything seems out of focus. The ringing in his ears is only now starting to fade enough so that Tony can hear what’s going on. 

He’s not in the room where he was before. This is much smaller, about the size of a small conference room. The table is pushed against the far wall as are the chairs to give Tony as much room as possible. There are little windows indented in that same wall and Tony can see the blue of sky and white of clouds passing by. 

_ Thump-ba-thump. _

_ Thump-ba-thump. _

_ Thump-ba-thump. _

For a small eternity, Tony just breathes. He takes solid gasping breaths that eventually slow to deep inhales and exhales. The captain is matching his breathing with Tony's and the two of them just sit there, in the quiet of the conference room for just a moment. 

The entire time, Steve doesn’t move away. He keeps Tony’s fingers pressed firmly to his pulse point. He doesn’t badger Tony with the questions he obviously wants to ask. He doesn’t offer empty platitudes or asks him to calm down. He simply sits with Tony. He sits and they both breathe.

Fury is in one of those chairs across the room, eyes focused on Tony as the boy sits crouched in a corner. Captain Rogers is sitting beside him, watching Tony with large blue eyes, concern shining in them. He rubs his thumb down the length of Tony’s wrist where he’s holding the teen’s fingers to his neck. 

Tony blinked owlishly up at the man, eyes focusing on him, “H-how did I get here?” he croaks.

Steve blinks back at the question, looking as if Tony had taken him a bit off guard. He processes for maybe a second before offering an apologetic smile. “I brought you to the closest room. I didn’t think all the noise was helping and figured you would appreciate some privacy,” he replied quietly, though his tone was unsure. As if he was afraid Tony would be mad at him for doing so.

Tony sucked in another deep breath, the ringing had died down to a low whistle and the room no longer felt too bright. He swallowed and nodded quietly to show he’d understood. He ran an eye down the older male, before focusing on his face. He takes another breath and releases it before swallowing. Then he focuses on Steve, “Okay.” he nods to himself, “Okay. Go ahead. Ask.”

Steve doesn’t do him the disservice of pretending he doesn’t understand what Tony is talking about. He gives Tony a once over and, upon finding him okay enough to continue, “You said you're Howard’s son?” he murmured very quietly. 

Tony nodded. 

“Your last name is Rogers-Stark?”

Another nod.

“ _ Rogers _ -Stark?” Steve emphasized the first part, blue eyes focused on him and him alone.

Tony moved his head up and down, one last time.

This only seemed to confuse the soldier more. “I… am I- are you-?” he stammered, seeming unsure of what he was asking.

It clicked very suddenly for the child. He realized just what the man was asking and that started a play of dominoes in his head as one thought led to another. Tony sat up, “I take it you haven’t been… awake very long?” he questioned.

The man shook his head, looking very out of his depth. “A week. I’ve been awake a week. They said… they told me… I’d been  _ frozen  _ for over sixty years...” his tone was incredulous.

Frozen. 

Steve Rogers had been frozen. He’d been truly gone then for all that time. His mother was right. The alpha had just been there… waiting to be found. And he’d only been awake a week. A  _ week _ before being thrown to the wolves with Loki. His mother would be livid.

_ A week. _

He’d been awake a week! And no one had told Tony they had found his father. By the look on Steve’s face, no one had told the Captain he had a son either.

“If you’re...  _ Howard’s _ son… how are you so young?” Steve asked, bringing Tony back from his thoughts. “Howard was thirty when I went down.”

Tony pursed his lips, meeting Steve’s gaze, “Soulmates die together… or not at all.” Tony reminded the man, “My mother is  _ still _ 30.”

Soulmates aged together. If one was older, the other would stop aging after they met and then they would both start again when they caught up. But if one died, the remaining mate would stop agin completely. Fairy Tales made it out to be some great thing, some big romantic notion. For soulmates to die apart, the grief would be so great that time itself wouldn’t touch the widowed mate. 

Frequently when this happened, the surviving mate would go to great lengths to quickly follow the other half of their bond into death. Howard hadn’t. So convinced was he that Steve was still out there, still alive, but just waiting for him. He had told Tony time and time again that they would find him. They would find Steve and then they would be a family. Then Howard would finally celebrate his 31st birthday.

Hell, half the reason the general public was so sure Steve was dead was because of Howard’s lack of aging. Once soulmates met and equaled out in age, they continued aging, even if separated. So, theoretically, if Steve  _ had  _ been alive like Howard thought he was… He should have been aging. But Steve had been frozen. Still frozen in the age he’d gone down. Howard had supplied that that was 27. Steve had been still aging, trying to catch up to Howard, when that plane had gone down in the Arctic.

Tony’s mind reeled from all of the information. Information in his mind that he’d once taken as fact being corrected. Meanwhile, Steve seemed to be trying to recover as well. His face displayed a litany of emotions Tony was all too familiar with. It was clear that the super soldier was trying to put his own facts together. He seemed to be stuck on something though.

The man had seemingly resolved to simply ask his question, tone taking on an emphatic quality, “Your mother…” his voice cracks, “ _ Is still alive _ ?” 

Tony’s thoughts grind to a halt and he flinches at the insinuation. “Someone told you he was dead?” he hisses, furious at even the thought. When Steve nods, Tony’s had enough. All the equations and percentiles and information that was being adjusted in his brilliant mind being put on hold. This is more important.

The captain looks like he’d been handed the most precious gift and Tony can very well imagine. He’d thought his mate was dead. Tony forces himself to his feet in a fit of anger. He stumbles and the alpha catches him by his elbow gently. Steve gently turns Tony to face him, distracting the boy from his ire with his question, “Tony… who's your father?”

Tony makes a choked off sound at the question. Before he can second guess himself he’s looking away and murmuring a quiet, “You.”

Steve makes a similar choked off noise, sounding wounded and surprised and anguished all at once, “How?” the question is strangled. Tony lifts his gaze, an incredulous expression on his face at the question. He cuts off his instinctively rude reply at the sight of his father, who looks like he’s been sucker punched. 

Suddenly he realizes just what the captain is asking. He’s referring to Tony’s young age again. Tony feels his mouth quirk into a bittersweet smile. His voice is barely a whisper, “You don’t think my mother would let a little thing like you being presumed dead stop him, do you? Just took modern medicine a few decades to catch up.” The laugh that escapes him holds no humor. His eyes are wet and tears are building. Tony blinks them back but one catches loose and cascades down his cheek. Steve makes a soft noise that sounds both pained and comforting at once, brushing the tear away with shaking fingertips.

Tony continues after a breath, “They can create what they need for that sort of thing out of blood and skin flakes now. It’s called artificial insemination.” 

He swallows, and lifts his chin, meeting his father’s eyes with all of the courage he was known for, “You're my father.” he insists, smiling weekly. “My mother has the DNA tests to prove it. Board wanted them. Kind of insinuated my mother was a slut,” the last part comes out darker than intended but the anger from that knowledge is still there, quivering below the surface. 

Steve actually growls and it's an odd thing to hear a familial alpha growl, as Tony’s never experienced hearing one before. He’s leaning into the Alpha before he knows what he’s doing.

The man pressed his nose against the line of Tony hair and inhales, “I believe you,” he murmurs against his hair. “You smell like…” Tony can feel his swallow here, “...like Howard and me. You did back there too. I just… didn’t know how it was possible,” he rubbed his nose into Tony’s chestnut locks and Tony buries his face against the Alpha’s chest. He inhales and it's an immediate punch to the gut. 

Steve smells like home.

He smells like forest and rain, like chocolate, and cinnamon. The sweet smells nearly have his legs buckling. Mom. He would know that scent anywhere. The sugary sweet smell of chocolate and cinnamon. It clings to this alpha just as the scent of rain and forest had clung to his mother. If he had any doubt this was Steve Rogers remaining, it was stamped out mercilessly by the scent. 

Tony has to force back a sob and nearly fails when strong arms are wrapped around him, tight like a vice. Like they never want to let him go. Tony’s fingers catch on the collar of Steve’s suit, curling tightly, “You’re really here…” Tony murmurs more to himself. He feels like he’s in shock.

Nevertheless, the man squeezes Tony briefly as if to emphasize his words, “I’m here. I’m not going anywhere,” he reassures. Tony has to bite the inside of his cheek, so hard it fills his mouth with the copper taste of blood, to stop himself from collapsing into the man entirely.

They both remain there for a moment, reeling thoughts and breath back under control before something breaks the calm. He feels his father stiffen in his arms and the low subvocals of his growl. The captain shifts the two of them slightly, as if putting himself between Tony and a perceived threat.

“You said someone told you Howard Stark was dead?” asked a familiar voice. Tony lifted his head from his father’s chest, old righteous anger returning. Fury had dared leave his vigil from one of the chairs across the room and had stepped into their little bubble, carelessly.

Impulsively, Tony deftly ducks out from the circle of the captain’s arms and moves to lunge at the director, “You son of a bitch!” Steve catches him a moment before he can get out of his reach and tugs Tony’s back against his chest, arms cording gently but snugly around the child’s lithe frame. 

Ordinarily, being restricted like this would have Tony thrashing. But he can sense Steve’s own anger, feel it thrumming through his body with the force of the alpha’s sub-vocals. The scent that is still filling his nose reminds him of  _ Mom _ and Tony is still caught so completely off guard by the fact that his father is  _ alive  _ and  _ well  _ and  _ right fucking here _ that he doesn’t fight. He merely sags back against the man's chest, feeling very much in shock.

“It’s a matter of national security. Who told you Howard was dead?” The director interrupts.

His father’s tone is silken steel above him, “You did. The files I was given marked Howard as dead along with more than half my team. And there was  _ no  _ mention of me having a son either.” The last part is accompanied by those sub-vocals that make Tony’s legs turn to jelly. 

Vivid anger has Tony struggling against his father’s grip. It falters briefly, the man seemingly caught off guard by Tony’s strength, before readjusting his grip and strengthening his hold. Tony struggles again. It doesn’t budge. The teenager rails at the perceived injustice, “He’s been awake a week! Why wasn’t I told? Why wasn’t-”

Fury purses his lips, eyes flickering down to Tony, but he answers his father instead of the teenager's, “I had no part in what was put into those files. I was just told to hand them off and was told by someone I trusted that you said you had asked for some time to deal with all of this information. He specifically said you didn’t want anyone to know about you yet.” 

Tony stops struggling immediately. Steve shakes his head vehemently, “I never said any of that. I thought Howard was dead and didn’t know  _ anything _ about Tony.” The man’s tone hold’s no room for argument as he rubs his hands up and down Tony’s upper arms. Despite not really trusting Fury’s words, Tony feels a surge of relief and the reassurance if Steve’s tone. 

Fury frowns, eyes narrowing but he nods at Tony’s father which means his uncle believes him. The director opens his mouth once more, but Steve beats him to it. “Howard? Where is he? He had to have come here with Tony, right?” asks the hero. Fury purses his lip and looks off to the side, looking uncharacteristically uncomfortable. 

Tony swallows, throat feeling sticky, “No…. he… I….”

Steve all at once turns back to Tony, arms loosening as he holds the boy at arms length, bending slightly to be at eye level, “Tony?” he murmurs, tone soft and soothing. 

“Mom’s gone.” is all Tony can manage. Steve makes an unidentifiable sound and looks as if he wants to follow Tony’s words with a query. 

Thankfully, Fury takes over for him. “Howard disappeared a little under a month ago. We’ve been searching but have yet to find him.”

Steve stiffens and Tony holds his breath. His mother has been looking for Steve for decades and now when he’s finally here… Howard's gone. As illogical as it is, Tony can't help but feel that he's somehow at fault. Steve’s eyes soften on Tony, voice soft and wet, “Tony…” he murmurs, quietly, as if trying to soothe. He opens his mouth again as if to say more but Tony doesn’t get to find out what the soldier had wanted to say. 

There’s a deafening noise and the whole helicarrier rocks. Tony stumbles into Steve and the man catches him around the waist as they crash into the solid metal wall near them. It dents around Steve’s shoulder with the force of their movement. 

Fury's voice calls above the deafening alarms, “The suit! Get Tony to the suit!” 

Steve looks confused, “Suit?”

Fury looks a bit surprised at the Captain's confusion and so is Tony, but the director pushes on, explaining, “He’s got a suit of armor in your colors. He brought in Loki.” Fury’s voice is just barely audible above the din sounding out from beyond the closed door near them. Steve looks like this is the most surprising news he’s gotten all day, never mind the fact that his mate is alive (hopefully) and he has a son.

“That was you?!” The captain raises his voice with incredulity as he turns his gaze on Tony, looking like he simultaneously is displeased and impressed. Tony nods, squaring his shoulders. 

His father goes to reply but the sounds of chaos is rising from beyond the door. Fury’s voice holds a certain degree of urgency, “Rogers! Now!” he commands, opening the door and letting the sound in.

Tony uses his father’s surprise to slip past him, heading for the now open door. He checks his shoulder against the frame as he crashes into one side when the airship tilts chaotically. Steve is right behind him, slipping an arm around his waist as he steadies the boy and they stumble into the hall and out into the chaos.

“Where?!” Steve yells above it all. Tony tugs him in the direction of the suit wordlessly. He activates the comm he’s never removed from his ear without a second thought and watches the captain move his hand to his ear to do the same as they find the requested area. There’s talk about an engine down over the comms and needing someone outside to make repairs.

“You copy that, Rogers-Stark?” inquires Fury over the comm. 

Tony doesn’t even hesitate. He steps toward his suit, eyes glowing blue as the walls move away from the armor with but a thought. Another one has the suit coming online. “I copy.” Tony replies, hearing Steve's footfalls behind him.

He turns to face his father, stretching his arms out so the suit can read each of his bracelets, “Wanna see a magic trick?” his mouth curls into a smirk as the suit flies forward and assembles around him. Tony grins.

The captain looks suitably impressed, awe-stricken really, eyes falling to the star on Tony’s chest that the teenager and his mother had designed to emulate the one on his father’s suit. Tony rolls his shoulders back, “Coming, Cap?” he inquires, heading for the downed engine.

“Always.” he replies without hesitation, and Tony tries very hard not to think on the promise that comes with the Captain’s tone.

  
  


* * *

The Iron Patriot hits the air with a relished breath, despite the circumstances he’s always loved the high that comes with flight. “Tony? Tony, I’m here!” his father's voice crackles over the comms. Tony dives for the dead engine, catching sight of Captain America standing at the edge of the dismantled hangar. 

“Good. Let’s see what we got,” he replies. Distractedly he reads over his HUD while hovering near the fried engine. “Gotta get the super conducting cooling system back online before I can access the rotors and work on dislodging the debris, ” he hums to himself, frowning in concentration at the information Jarvis brings up for him.

Addressing his father he points, “I need you to get to the engine control panel and tell me which relays are in overload position.” The man nods at him before managing his way toward the panel. 

Tony himself heads closer to the engine, dislodging debris where he can along the way. He gives the man a moment to get to the panel, “Well, what do you see?” he prompts. 

His father huffs, “It seems to run on some form of electricity.”

Tony smiles despite himself, “Well, you're not wrong.”

He takes a breath and sets about instructing his father on what needs to be done. It’s actually not terribly difficult, considering he’s walking a man from the 40’s through technology he’s never seen before. But he’s Tony Rogers-Stark. Technology is his specialty. It takes them maybe five minutes to do what needs to be done.

He hears Cap close the panel, “Okay, the relays are intact. What’s our next move?”

“Even if I clear the rotors, this thing won’t reengage without a jump. I’m gonna have to get in there and push.” Tony replies, a mere thought switching one reading for the next on his display, bringing up a new set of variables for him to consider.

Tony can actually hear the worry in his father’s reply, “But if that thing gets up to speed, you’ll be shredded.”

Tony already has his counterargument at the ready, “That standard control unit can reverse the polarity long enough to disengage maglev and that-” he’s cut off.

“Tony,” Cap interrupts, exasperated. Tony might be imagining it but the man sounds fond, “Speak English.”

The brunet pauses. Okay, yeah. Perhaps the man from the forties was having a bit of trouble following his train of thought since even his peers have had the same issue before. 

“See that red lever?” he asks instead. The captain turns to face the object Tony was referring to and the teenager continues, “It’ll slow the rotors down long enough for me to get out. Stand by it. Wait for my word.”

There’s a hesitation. The Cap’s voice returns across the comms strained with worry, “Tony, that’s-”

Tony interrupts, “It’s literally the only way I’m getting this thing back online.” he hedges. 

Another pause before a resigned sigh. “Roger that.”

Iron Patriot watches Captain America jump over to the platform with the lever and Tony turns toward the engine, squaring his shoulders. 

Okay. This is a simple mechanical fix. Piece of cake. He doesn’t need Iron Man for this.

Right?

He uses a laser to cut across a fallen platform and jumps on it to clear it away from the engine before approaching the rotors. There's a small explosion somewhere near and he hears the telltale sound of gunfire over the comms. “Cap?”

“Got company.” is all the man says, sounding agitated. Tony can hear pieces of combat coming over their private line and he mercilessly stamps down his worry as he focuses on the task at hand. He’s only doing that for a couple of minutes, still listening in with quiet worry at the combat on the other side of the link when something changes. 

The whole helicarrier shifts and starts to descend in a free fall. Tony curses under his breath. Another engine down. Well, now or never.

He faces the rotor he’s intending to move manually and presses his gloved hands to it, huffing quietly when Fury comes on over the main line, “Tony, we’re losing altitude.” He sounds harassed despite the evenness of his words.

“Yup, noticed.” he grunts, starting to physically push the rotor as he gives power to the repulsors in the soles of his boots. The mechanism slowly starts to move unhappily as sparks fly and excess pieces of metal grind off before falling away.

There's a lot of clatter over the comm link he has with Cap and he tries his best to ignore it, despite the plummeting sensation in his gut. He focused on pushing the blade. It takes a few awfully slow moments as it accelerates while Tony forces all the power to his repulsors.

A few moments later and the engine is picking up speed. Tony's struggling with the G-forces and his head spins, soon enough his suit can’t keep up. He struggles to keep his voice level over the comm, “Cap, get the lever.”

There’s a muffled curse, “I need a minute here,” and the sound of gunfire and god knows what else on the other side of the line. He sounds panicked and Tony logically knows something is going wrong on the other side of their comm link but he’s panicking too. Tony doesn't have a minute.

“Lever.” his voice holding a note of fear as he runs an eye over his readings. He’s rather quickly losing speed in comparison to the rotor.

“Now!” he shouts, helplessly trying to divert more power so he can pick up speed and grant them a few more seconds but it’s useless. There’s no more power to divert. This is as fast as his suit can physically go. He feels sick.

Tony hears more gunfire and the sound of bullets on metal over the link, but his hands are not quite on the rotor anymore as he’s reaching an equilibrium in velocity between the blades and his own speed. His heart is hammering in his ears. A split second passes as he hovers between the blades and then he’s flat against the other rotor. 

“Dad!” he shouts over the comm.

He catches the hitch of the captain's breath just before Tony’s sucked under the blades. He only hits one blade and is dragged for a split second before the Captain must catch the lever, which is great because he’s pretty damn sure that’s just about all his lightly armored suit can take. Perhaps his mother’s suit could have taken more of a beating but not this one.

He takes the opening and bolts out from the blades and into the open air once more, “Tony?!” His father’s frantic voice shouts over the comms. This time there’s no denying the panic in the Captain’s voice.

Tony’s bruised and battered and aching but he scrambles to find his balance in the air, the readings from his suit are blaring alarms over his HUD and his repulsors are stuttering. None of that matters though, because the gunfire is still pronounced and now Tony can do something about it. He blasts off in the direction of where he knows his father to be, hoping the repulsors in his suit will hold out that long.

He surges quickly into the compartment and blasts past his father to collide roughly with the gunman. His repulsors cut off just as he impacts and they both go careening through the metal shoot for a few feet. Tony hits the ground on top of the gunman and rolls off just as his suit goes completely offline.

There’s a beat of silence as Tony’s breath comes harsh and fast in the suit. He’s only staring up into the dark of his suit for a moment before the Captain’s voice is breaking the silence.

“Tony!” His father’s voice is no longer just on the comm in his ear and the superhero is by his side in the span of what can only be a heartbeat. His fingers are clumsily looking for the catch on Tony’s face plate and the battered teen raises a glove to catch his hand and silently guide it to the catch. The soldier tugs his face plate off, the piece of metal clatters to the floor of the hanger. Tony takes a breath of open air and blinks up into worried blue eyes.

“Hey,” Tony murmurs, relieved as much as Steve is at finding the other in one piece. 

The captain blinks down at Tony, eyes a little glassy, “Hey.” There’s a beat before he adds a guilt ridden, “I’m sorry.”

Tony shakes his head. He attempts to struggle to his feet, but accepts the hand offered, allowing the captain to do the hard work and pull him up. The suit he’s in isn’t nearly as heavy offline as his mother’s is, and Tony’s quite a bit stronger then Howard, but his limbs feel like jelly. “Not your fault. I’m fine. We’re fine.” he reassures.

Steve nods and leans heavily against the rail near him. There's a beat of pensive silence while they both just catch their breath. Then his father breaks it, “So…” 

Tony looks up and meets blue eyes, as an amused smile curves over the captain’s lips, “...Dad, huh?” he hums, his tone teasing and blue eyes dancing with mirth.

Tony turns red, remembering his Freudian slip when he’d feared for his life. He opens his mouth to stammer an apology but the captain cuts him off, a fond grin on his lips and his eyes soften with open affection, “I think I could get used to that,” his voice is so very soft and vulnerable.

Tony feels just as vulnerable but before he can reply, Fury’s voice crackles over the comms:

“Coulson’s down.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter was a struggle but I did my best. Hope you all enjoy and are staying healthy during the apocalypse. :)


	4. Fifty/Fifty

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “What, Captain Rogers?” he snaps, stepping into his space. “You’ve got some wise words for me? You going to tell me that it wasn't my fault? That these things happen for a reason? Or maybe that he’s in a better place?” his voice is rising and he gets a certain degree of satisfaction when he makes his father flinch. “What, Captain? What do you have to say?” he sneers.
> 
> Frustration is written plain across the man’s features, “Tony-” Tony shakes his head, stepping back and moving to turn away from the captain. The man catches his wrist and turns him back toward him, to face him. 
> 
> Tony feels a fresh wave of anger hit him and he opens his mouth to snap at the man who is supposed to be Tony’s father when Steve cuts him off instead, “What the hell are you even doing here?”

The captain might have thrown the switch but Tony still feels like he’s been cut to ribbons. And the feeling has nothing to do with the dark blue bruises on the left side of his ribs. Those will heal. In a couple hours they’ll be nothing more than a memory. He has his father’s genes to thank for that particular magic trick.

Tony’s full of them: tricks. His IQ’s in the top 0.1%. He built his first circuit board at four years old. Then there were his extra abilities thanks to his partial dose of the serum. And his trump card in the form of his little special ability.

It was Tony’s best kept secret. The Iron Patriot only worked for him because of both his arc reactor and that. His suit was really more meant for speed and flexibility, more useful for covert ops. Though Tony didn’t actually need a suit to be a hero, he wasn’t exactly baseline, but it had been a stipulation for the teenager even engaging in his heroics and Tony loved his suit. So it’s not like it bothered him. He was more useful in the suit anyway. It played to his strengths.

The point he’s trying to make is that Tony Rogers-Stark has quite a few tricks up his sleeve.

But none of them are the ability to reverse death.

And that’s the problem.

Twenty minutes later, he hasn’t spoken a word to anyone, including his father, since Fury’s announcement. He’s out of the suit, the work of mechanical engineering was rather banged up and currently not even operational. His t-shirt is sticking to him uncomfortably as are his jeans and his ribs ache, but not terribly. His chest feels worse, even as he sits at the table in the center of the helicarrier. Even as he knows he didn’t take any physical damage to it. Though, it doesn’t feel like it.

It’s just him and Cap here, the older man is staring at him from one seat over. Tony can’t bear to look at him. He feels another set of eyes on him and senses the director entering. Tony doesn’t look up, but the man’s voice pierces the oppressive silence anyway.

“These were in Phil Coulson’s jacket.” Nick starts, Tony still doesn’t look up. “Guess he never did get you to sign them.”

Tony catches the movement of the cards being thrown on the table out of the corner of his eye. He knows what they are. He’s seen them himself. He’s poured over them with the man in question. They had even traded cards, once upon a time. He aches somewhere deep in his chest. 

He sees Cap reach for a card out of the corner of his eye. The man studies it.

“We’re dead in the air up here,” Fury continues. “Our communications; the location of the cube; Banner; Thor. I’ve got nothing for you.” 

Fury sighs deeply, “Lost my one good eye… Maybe I had that coming.” his voice softens at the end.

Tony still doesn’t look at either of the men. Though he sits back in his chair, shifting a little. He notices the Captain set the card he’s been studying back down on the table. He can’t look at him, not now.

Fury continues, “You’re both still here though. We’ve got agent Barton back and we still have Romanov. I’ve never bet all my chips on any other operation because I’ve been playing something riskier.”

Tony knows what he’s talking about before the man he’s called uncle all his life even says the words. He knows what Nick Fury is attempting to do. A part of Tony wants to throw the words back in his face. A part of him wants to yell, to scream his voice raw with all of the rage that had once simmered beneath his skin. Right now though, it's unreachable to him. He only feels empty.

“There was an idea...” Fury starts, as he walks behind the Captain. “Your son knows this, is a part of it.” he informs the blond as an aside while he indicates to Tony. The teenager stiffens and he feels blue eyes on the back of his head. “It was called  _ 'The Avengers Initiative.' _ ” The director pauses here for some sort of dramatic effect and if Tony didn’t feel so hollow, he would have rolled his eyes at his uncle,  _ the fucking drama queen _ . 

Fury continues, “The idea was to bring together a group of remarkable people to see if they could become something more. See if they could work together when we need them to, to fight the battles we never could.”

Tony glances briefly over his shoulder, meeting blue eyes for just a second. His heart lurches to his throat as he wrings his hands. The director has the nerve to continue, “Phil Coulson died still believing in that idea… In heroes.”

Tony feels bile rise to his throat and he stands abruptly on unsteady feet, as if pulled like a puppet on a string. 

He’s no one's puppet. 

He stands for the span of a heartbeat, unsure what to say. He opens his mouth but the words don’t come. He has nothing left to say. There are no words that will bring Agent back. He has nothing.

He stumbles from the room and as he leaves, he hears Fury say, “Well… it’s an old fashioned notion.”

Tony wants to hit something.

* * *

Tony has no idea how he ended up here. Doesn’t know what he’s looking for… or what he’s expecting. He aches in places he didn’t know he still had. He thought after his mother disappeared… it couldn’t get any worse.

Did he hex himself thinking that?

His mother would have slapped the back of his head for even thinking the word ‘hex’ and Tony feels ridiculous. 

He feels both too big and too small in his skin. He’s full of all of this excess energy but simultaneously feels so exhausted. 

He leans against the railing, resolutely not looking at the spot behind him that he knows Agent to have died. Footsteps are coming closer and he knows who it is without looking in the direction they’re coming from. He sees the captain approach from the other entrance. The man is in a blue long-sleeve sweater and faded jeans. He looks so different in normal clothes. He looks human.

Funny how now, outside of his armor and standing here in only his own civilian clothes, Tony feels the furthest thing from human.

The brunet doesn’t meet Steve’s eyes and the man stays a distance away from him, leaning with his back to the yellow safety railing that had once surrounded the glass prison which had served as Loki’s cell.

“Was he bonded?” asked the blond, before also adding, “Or married?”

Tony shook his head minutely, “There was a... Uh… cellist? I think?” his voice sounds strange to his own ears. The ringing is back.

“I’m sorry.” The captain sighs, “He seemed like a good man.”

Tony feels his lips quirk with a bittersweet smile. He snorts but there’s no humor to the motion, “He was an idiot.”

“Why?” asks the captain, his words soft. As if he knows he’s treading on thin ice with the teenager, “For believing?”

Tony answers him a bit too quickly, “For taking on Loki alone.” he responds, taking a few steps backward before half turning to step in the direction of his father. 

“He was doing his job.” Answers the captain, promptly. He pushes off the railing behind him to stand upright.

Tony shakes his head, sighing with disgust at the words, “He was out of his league,” his voice raised with emotion, “He should have waited… he should have-” he gestures vaguely as he continues moving slowly in Steve’s direction.

The captain is stepping toward him, “Sometimes there isn’t a way out, Tony,” he responded as he closed most of the distance between them.

Tony continues walking toward the blond, frustration in his steps and the way he half points in the direction of the other, “Right… I’ve heard that before.” He passes the man and the captain reaches out to catch the arm closest to Steve.

“Tony…” The voice is laced with a heaviness that sets Tony’s nerves on edge. Tony yanks his arm free from the man and rounds on him, anger for so many things bubbling to the surface.

Some logical part of Tony’s brain knows this isn’t the captain's fault. It’s not Steve’s fault that Agent’s gone. It’s not his fault Tony’s mother is missing or that Tony’s father was frozen for decades and he’s had to live so much of his life without him. But right now, right now Tony is angry and wants to lash out. He wants to scream and hurt. He wants to blame the man who was supposed to have been there for him, who should have been here for Tony his whole life. He wants Steve to hurt as much as Tony does

“What, Captain Rogers?” he snaps, stepping into his space. “You’ve got some wise words for me? You going to tell me that  _ it wasn't my fault _ ? That  _ these things happen for a reason _ ? Or maybe  _ that he’s in a better place _ ?” his voice is rising and he gets a certain degree of satisfaction when he makes his father flinch. “What, Captain? What do you have to say?” he sneers.

Frustration is written plain across the man’s features, “Tony-” Tony shakes his head, stepping back and moving to turn away from the captain. The man catches his wrist and turns him back toward him, to face him. 

Tony feels a fresh wave of anger hit him and he opens his mouth to snap at the man who is supposed to be Tony’s father when Steve cuts him off instead, “What the hell are you even doing here?” his voice is slightly raised with helpless frustration and the question stops Tony.

His anger abates just a bit because of his confusion, “What are you-?” Tony asks.

Steve interrupts him, “What are you doing here?” he looks like he has more to say but Tony answers too quickly.

“Fury called me.” he answers shortly, still confused with this line of questioning. What does this have to do with anything?  Steve shakes his head, still frustrated as he steps more solidly into Tony’s space. He rests a hand on his shoulder, dropping Tony’s wrist, “No, Tony. What are you doing here on the carrier? What are you doing here in the suit? What are you doing being a part of the  _ Avengers initiative _ ?” 

_ Oh _ , so we’re having  _ this _ fight then. Indignant anger rises up in his chest. How dare he? He’s been gone Tony’s whole life. He doesn’t get to step back in now to tell Tony what he can and can’t do. The boy squares his shoulders, eyes darkening, “You don’t-”

“You’re just a kid, Tony!” snaps the captain, sounding both exasperated and frustrated. “You shouldn’t be dealing with mad gods! You shouldn’t be grieving a murdered friend! You shouldn’t be getting nearly killed by the blade of an aircraft a thousand miles away from home.” His voice softens at the end, the frustration draining from him and being replaced with something that makes Tony’s chest ache all over again, “You’re just a kid…”

Tony releases a breath he hadn’t known he’d been holding. His anger evaporates with the whisper quiet the captain’s voice takes toward the end and the helpless grief-stricken expression that’s painted across the man’s features. 

Tony’s voice holds none of his previous anger when he replies, “I’m not just a kid.” His voice is soft as he reaches up and wraps his fingers around the arm that’s attached to Steve’s hand on his shoulder, 

The captain opens his mouth to argue but Tony shakes his head, cutting him off with an emphatic, “I’m not  **just** a kid, Cap.” He steps up now so their chests are nearly touching. Tony has to look up at the man as he’s got a little over a foot on him in height and the captain lowers his chin to meet Tony’s blazing blue eyes. 

Tony continues, “My mother is Howard Stark and my father,” he touches a finger to Steve’s chest, “Is Captain America.” He pauses pointedly, “I was  _ never _ going to be  _ just _ a kid.”

Steve interrupts with a shake of his head, “Tony-”

“No!” The younger snaps, not angry but frustrated. “You had your turn, Cap. Now it’s mine,” he insists. Tony rolls his shoulders, “I made my first circuit board at 4. I graduated high school at 12. And this year,” he meets the captain’s eyes daring him to argue, “I became the youngest ever student admitted to MIT.” 

His father looks suitably impressed. Steve even smiles at him, “That’s great, Tony!” he says and he even seems like he means the words. Like he’s proud of him. 

Then the captain tries to continue, “But-”

Tony shakes his head, not easily dissuaded, “I also broke a middle-schooler's jaw when I was six years old because he wouldn’t leave a girl at the park alone.”

The captain’s mouth snaps shut looking shocked. Steve has no words for that.

Tony continues, “And… you know… I became a superhero at 12.” he feels a smile flicker across his lips as he crosses his arms. “My mom likes to say that I’m fifty percent Howard Stark and fifty percent Steve Rogers.”

Steve has a smile tugging at his mouth and a fond look to his eyes despite the seriousness of their conversation and Tony feels like he’s accomplished something just by that, so he continues, “Occasionally, when I do something impressively brave or stupid…. Or you know, sometimes both because I’m  _ talented _ like that,” his father snorts and Tony grins, “Mom would say that sometimes, he wished I was a little less like you.”

His father's smile falters so Tony quickly continues, “Then again, he says the reverse when I end up exploding something in the lab, so…” and there’s that smile again twisting Steve’s lips into something a little less pitiful. His eyes are soft on Tony now, the man looks at Tony affectionately.

Tony can already taste victory.

“The point I’m trying to make here,  _ Dad _ ,” this is the first time he’s intentionally using the pronoun and it feels a little weird, but the smile that lights up his father’s face is worth it so he continues, “Is that I was never  _ just _ a kid.”

He rolls his shoulders back and squares his jaw, standing straight-backed and feeling brave, “I’m  _ your _ kid.” The captain's eyes and smile go soft and gooey. 

Tony offers him a knowing grin, “And Mom’s. I’ve got  _ both _ an IQ of 270 and a tendency to swing first and ask questions later,” here his father actually laughs though the man seems like he’s as surprised by the sound as Tony is. He looks as if he didn’t think he was still capable of laughter.

Tony shares a grin with him before he softens his voice, “I built my first suit out of scraps in a cave in Afghanistan and I can lift roughly 450 pounds.” The look on his father’s face at this is priceless. Tony grins, “Oh yeah, Dr. Erskine would have probably have liked to know that the Super Soldier Serum is hereditary.”

Steve is staring at him, “You can-”

Tony nods, “I mean, I’m not quite as strong, clearly, or as fast. But I do have the increased durability, healing abilities, and resistance to fatigue and exhaustion. I actually beat you when it comes to reaction speed. But I don’t have any of the enhanced senses either. I’m still clearly short and scrawny but I’ve never been sick. I don’t have any of the extras that deal with enhanced bio-chemical production. I did however get a bonus ability,” Tony grins and at his father’s raised brow Tony’s eyes glow an electric blue, Steve visibly flinches from surprise, and the boy deliberately flickers the lights in this area of the ship. He does it a few times to get his point across. He doesn’t really have anything here he can really show off with and Steve’s fairly unfamiliar with technology anyway.

“Mom called it technopathy. He used to joke that that was what you get when you combine a few drops of Super Soldier Serum with Stark genetics.” Steve smiles at this.

Tony continues, “Joking aside, we're not entirely sure if that comes from my secondhand dose of the serum or perhaps I have some kind of genetic anomaly. Maybe I’m a mutant? It’s impossible to know for sure. Either way, I can interface with pretty much anything electronic directly. It's how I got my suit to come online and armor me before.” Tony rubs the back of his neck sheepishly.

Steve looks a little lost for words, “Wow.”

Tony offers him a sheepish smile, “So… you know. Definitely not  **just** a kid.”

There’s a moment of quiet while Steve seems to digest this information. Tony patiently waits.

“No,” Steve sighs in response, looking a little out of his depth as he rubbed the back of his neck, “Apparently not.”

There’s another beat of silence this time Tony breaks it to return back to the matter at hand, “I… I’m not marching to Fury’s fife. He lied to me.” Tony still feels his old anger simmering, but now it’s leveled at the director. Steve wasn’t to blame here, none of this was his fault and he even seemed to be on Tony’s side.

“He lied to both of us,” Steve reminded him, “And neither am I, he’s got the same blood on his hands that Loki does. But…” he hesitates, giving Tony a once over, “Like you said, you’re not  **just** a kid.” He groans quietly, scrubbing a hand down his face, as he sighs. “ _ Of course _ you're not just a kid and as much as I would like to bundle you away from all of this and keep you safe, I have a feeling you wouldn’t stand for that.”

Tony snorts, crossing his arms, “Not a chance, old man.”

Steve nods, sighing, “The way I figure, if I tell you to stay the hell out of this, you're just going to fight in secret. So if you're insisting on doing this, I’d much prefer you do it with me at your side.”

Tony’s smile feels wobbly, “That… that’s literally a word for word quote of what mom said.”

Steve looks stricken at this and his voice is choked with conflicting emotion when he replies, “What can I say? Great minds think alike.” 

Tony nods, aching all over again. He swallows thickly.

Steve takes a deep breath and continues, “So let's forget Fury. We’re not doing this for him. We’re doing this for the thousands of innocent people who don’t deserve Loki’s brand of crazy. We’re doing this for  _ us _ . So we can get this done and then go find your mother.”

Tony’s heart jumps to his throat and his pulse crashes against his eardrums, “You-?” but Steve interrupts him.

Tony is very sure Steve doesn’t have any form of telepathy, but the man seems too damn proficient in reading Tony’s thoughts as he cuts in, “Of course we’re going looking for him. And we can talk more… more about  _ this _ …” He gestures between Tony and himself, “About what all this means for  _ us _ later. But right now, we’ve got to deal with Loki.” 

Tony nods and gestures for the super soldier to continue. Steve does so, “Now Loki needs a power source, if we could put together a list-”

Tony cuts him off, struck by the sudden realization, “He made it personal.”

Steve fixes him with a confused look, “That’s not the point?”

Tony shakes his head, “That  _ is  _ the point. That’s  _ Loki _ ’s point. He hit us all right where we live. Why?”

His father seems to get the idea. The blond offers, “To tear us apart?”

Tony’s onto something and he knows it. He nods, shrugging. “Yeah, divide and conquer, great but he knows he has to take us all out to win, right? That’s what he wants. He wants to beat us, he wants to be seen doing it…” Tony pauses for a heart beat as his father nods along with his point. “He wants an audience.” Tony realizes out loud as he walks past Steve and the man is already agreeing with Tony. 

“Right,” Steve takes a few steps along after his son, “I caught his act in Stuttgart,” He adds.

“But that’s just previews.” Tony climbs the stairs and turns back to face his father, gesturing wildly, “ **_This_ ** _ is opening night  _ and Loki, he’s a full-tilt diva. He wants flowers. He wants parades. He wants a monument built to the skies with his name plastered-” Tony cuts himself off, as he realizes just where he was going with this.

“Son of a bitch!” he exclaims and rushes down the stairs, past his father in his haste. Steve doesn’t hesitate, merely follows Tony without question, trusting blindly.

Tony grins.

  
  


* * *

A handful of minutes later, Steve leaves his son working on fixing what he can with his suit. The soldier is still incredibly overwhelmed with everything he’s learned and with everything that’s changed. But he’s not alone anymore and for once, Steve’s not living just to keep breathing. He’s living for Tony,  _ his son _ , and Howard,  _ who’s alive _ !

Steve isn’t alone anymore and he still has a thousand questions but his soulmate is alive and there’s a 13 year old boy who’s half him and Howard and right now all Steve wants to do is take care of Loki so he can tuck the boy into his arms and never let him go.

Because Tony Rogers-Stark represents everything Steve’s ever wanted. Everything he had resigned himself to never having when he woke up sixty odd years into the future. But he  _ can _ . He can  _ have _ Tony and Howard and a family and he can be  _ happy _ . Now all he has to do is take care of Loki and make sure both he and the teen get through this alive.

He doesn’t have time to dwell on emotions or any of what has happened because they have to do this now. They’ve already wasted too much time.

Steve steps through the door where he knows who he’s looking for is. He meets the agent’s eyes and tells agent Romanov they have to go. He asks her if she knows how to fly one of those jets and before she can answer, the other agent he assumes to be Barton steps in from the bathroom.

“I can.”

Steve shares a look with Romanov and at her sure nod Steve does as well, “You’ve got a suit?” he asks.

Barton nods.

“Then suit up.” 

He’s already turning to head in the direction he’d left Tony, none too eager to have the kid out of his sight for too long. He only pauses to change into his own suit and grab his shield along the way. He finds the teenager in some sort of makeshift lab, taking a soldering iron to his blue and white helmet, safety glasses slightly askew. He watches as the teenager welds some open wiring closed and the eyes on the helmet light up. He has the rest of the armor spread out on tables around him. 

Most of it is dented and worse for wear. Steve feels a nugget of worry settle in his stomach. This is his child. His son. He’s thirteen years old and Steve’s only just met him today. He doesn’t know him, not really, and he’s terrified of losing the boy before he gets the chance. But there's no way Tony will sit this out and Steve really does agree with Howard: right now, he vehemently wished the boy was more like his mother.

Then again, some part of him knows Howard wouldn’t have sat this out either. 

Before he can dwell on his missing mate or how worried he is for their child, Tony’s eyes meet his. The boy gives him a once over, taking in the state of his suit, “When this is all over… I’m updating that armor of yours, Cap.”

_ Cap _ .

He didn’t mind that but he much preferred  _ Dad.  _ Tony has only called him it twice and one of those times wasn’t exactly intentional but Steve is already attached to the moniker. It's another thing that represents everything it turns out he hadn’t actually lost and despite Steve not really knowing Tony all that well yet, he knows enough to know that he  _ wants _ him. He desperately longs to be Tony’s  _ father _ and wants Tony to be his  _ son. _ He aches in a way he’s never felt before to press the child to his chest and chin him.

He has never felt as human as when Tony had called him  _ Dad. _

He wants to hear it as often as possible. But he’s not going to push. Not now. They both clearly have a lot to talk about but those conversations have to wait courtesy of a crazed so-called god. 

His beef with Loki hadn’t really been personal before. But the man had caused Tony grief when he killed Coulson and now he was what was stopping Steve from spiriting Tony away and just talking to the kid. He was stopping Steve from getting to simply be his father. Loki was stopping him from taking Tony and finding Howard.

Loki was putting his child at risk.

Loki was the obstacle directly in the way of Steve having everything he’s ever wanted.

So yes, now it was  _ personal. _

He focuses back on his child, “What’s wrong with my suit?” Steve asks, with a raised brow and an indulgent smile on his lips.

Tony moves to another piece of his own armor, bending over to take the soldering iron to it. He doesn’t lift his analytical gaze off the armor while he replies, “Nothing. Mom made it after all. But that was back in the forties and now we have the technology and materials to do so much better. And you  **need** better. I’d do it now if we had the time.”

Steve recognizes the words and Tony’s slightly uneven tone for what they are:  _ worry. _ Tony’s  _ worried. _ He doesn’t trust Steve’s outdated armor to keep him safe and wants to fix it. The thought makes him feel warm.

He waits for Tony to finish soldering his chest plate, before he meets the blue eyes that never fail to take his breath away. He’d never thought he’d see his own eyes on someone else. They suit Tony better than they ever suited him.

“I’ll be fine, Tony,” Steve assures. 

“Who said I was worried about you, Cap? I just think that armor is so inferior to what we have available. To what I can do. I  _ am _ a genius, you know?” The boy offers him a lopsided grin.

In another life, the words might have annoyed him. He was never fond of bluster. But in this life, he was soulmated to Howard Stark. He recognized a deflection when he saw it. Plus, Howard had usually hid behind his bluster when something was bothering him, or used it as a shield when he was out in the public eye.

Steve indulged Tony, “Oh, I have no doubt.” he offered a smile and inwardly celebrated when the kid offered him one back before settling back to work on his armor. Steve watched him for a few minutes until Tony set the iron down, appraising his work.

“Done?”

Tony nodded, “As good as I can make it.” He seems dissatisfied.

Steve was as well as he looked over the worn and dented armor. “I don’t like it.” 

Tony looked like he was about to argue so Steve quickly added, “I mean, I know you did what you could and I highly doubt anyone but you could have done as good a job, but we’re going against a god here. I’d really feel better if your gear was at 100%.”

The indignant anger drained out of Tony and Steve rewarded himself with a mental pat on the back for defusing the teenager. The boy nodded, “Yeah. Well, I just need to get back to the tower. I have a new version of the armor there, almost done.”

“Almost?”

“It’s at about 90%. I can have JARVIS skip the unnecessary bits and then I’d have a brand new set, all ready to go, perfect for dealing with a certain overly dramatic deity. This set just needs to get me there.” he informs, pressing his palms against the steel table and fixing Steve with his gaze.

Jarvis as in Howard’s butler? How was that man alive? What did he have to do with Tony’s armor? He swallowed down his questions. They would have time for more explanations later, “Can it?”

Tony nods, seeming certain. “Yeah. Thrusters weren’t that damaged, you hit that switch quick enough for it not to be too bad. I just can’t really take much of a hit in what’s left of this thing.”

Steve frowns but he has a thought. He hears the SHIELD agents approaching but they’re still a handful of seconds away, “How much weight can your suit hold?”

Tony looks up at him, frowning, “On top of my own weight? Three-hundred pounds give or take, why?”

“Could you take me with you?” Steve asks. 

The boy blinks at him with confusion, so Steve continues, “You just told me you couldn’t really take a hit in that armor and you have the intention of going ahead of us to the tower we're fairly sure Loki is at, by yourself, in a damaged suit.”

Tony looks like he’s about to argue.

Steve raises his hand placatingly and quickly adds, “I’m not saying you're incapable of handling it. I’m just saying that everyone, myself included, needs backup. Romanov and Barton can go together in the Quinjet. You could take me so we could both have each other’s backs as well.” he persuades, crossing his fingers at his side and hoping he’s lucky enough that the child will agree. He really doesn’t want to fight with Tony, nor do they have the time.

Tony stares at him for a moment, just as Barton and Romanov enter. Tony pauses as he looks at Steve. There’s a beat of silence, the two SHIELD agents seem to sense they’re in the middle of something. After a moment Tony sighs, presumably finding whatever he needed to see on Steve’s face, before nodding once, “Fine.”

Steve breathes a sigh of relief and graces Tony with a beaming smile before turning to face the two SHIELD agents, “Change of plans…”


	5. Becoming Our Heroes

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “I’ve got a nuke coming in. It’s gonna blow in less than a minute.” Tony reads over his HUD as he angles downwind, eyes on the missle, “And I know just where to put it...” he finishes a little breathlessly. 
> 
> He catches up to the missile, getting his arms around it as it hits him what he’s doing. What the consequences are for what he’s doing. His head swims but he clings on to the artillery anyway. He swallows, running over odds and percentages, other options.
> 
> He can't think of a single alternative, despite the fact that he knows the odds of his surviving this are less than 5%. He hangs on as it carries him toward the city he grew up in. The city he loved. The city that, if he doesn’t do this, will be nothing but a crater.
> 
> “Tony,” Steve’s voice breaks in, sounding choked with emotion, “You- you can’t- that- that’s a one way trip.”
> 
> Tony swallows, “Save the rest for the turn, J.” he instructs the AI.
> 
> Jarvis’ voice is subdued, “Young sir, would you like a private line with the captain?”
> 
> Tony exhales, “Go ahead, J.”
> 
> There’s the subtle sound of the connection going through and Tony tries his best to keep his voice even, “Dad.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This scene was very difficult to write.
> 
> Obviously, Tony's age and relationship with Steve changed quite a bit when it came to certain iconic scenes. I hope you approve and enjoy!
> 
> Happy reading!

The two SHIELD agents easily agree with his father’s plan, conceding that the Captain is the tactician out of their little group. He  _ is  _ Captain America, for crying out loud. So the two others head out to commandeer a fighter jet.

Tony faces his father and grins, baby blues flaring the electric blue that comes with the use of his power. His suit assembles together with the clinking of metal behind him. Tony doesn’t look back, just spreads his arms as he offers the little bracelets on either of his wrists to the suit. The armor wraps around him and Tony rolls his shoulders back, standing straighter in it.

Steve steps up to him. Even in the armor, Tony only gains a few inches and his suit isn’t very bulky so the captain is still quite a bit bigger than him. The soldier gives Tony and the armor a once over, “You sure it can hold me too?”

“Bit late to be second guessing now, isn’t it, Cap?” Tony’s tone is teasing, “One way to find out?” he hums.

Steve raises a brow at him, stepping up so he’s now in Tony’s space. His eyes fall to the star on Tony’s suit, “I never caught your name.”

“Hmm?” asks the boy, tilting his head inquisitively. 

“I mean, I’m Captain America. Romanov is the Black Widow. Barton is Hawkeye. Bruce is The Hulk… so what’s your name?”

Tony grins, despite the fact that he knows his father can’t see the motion. “So… Thor’s exempt from this little rule?”

“Well, he is a god.” Steve replies, his own smile teasing, “How do you wanna do this?”

Tony pauses, considering. He indicates to the man, “Step on my boot,” he instructs and guides the man to do just that. Then he wraps an arm around the Captain's waist. Steve instinctively slips an arm around Tony’s armored shoulders, his fingers finding a grove in the plating to hold on to. It’s not ideal, but it works and has the soldier essentially hugging the suit from the side with each of them having one arm free and one arm supporting the other.

“I’m the Iron Patriot. Mom’s is Iron Man.” Tony informs looking up at the Captain. Tony doesn’t mention why. He doesn’t need to. The captain isn’t stupid. From the colors of Tony’s suit and the star on his chest, to his mother’s chosen name, and Tony’s own. It’s pretty blatant on what they were going for.

Tony sees the moment Steve puts it together because the man’s smile goes soft the way it had when he called him  _ Dad. _

Tony doesn’t give the man a chance to comment, merely offers a quick, “Hold on tight!” before activating the thrusters in his boots and angling for the opening of the hangar they’re in. Steve’s arm tightens around his shoulders instinctively and when they leave the ground, his other arm wraps around Tony’s middle so that the soldier is essentially hugging Tony sideways. 

Steve makes a quiet surprised sound and Tony can feel the way his muscles go stiff, as if expecting them to fall. Tony just smiles in his suit, expecting his craftsmanship to hold them both the way it was meant to. The armor doesn’t let him down.

When they break to open air and don’t fall or stutter in anyway, the captain relaxes. He releases the arm wrapped around Tony’s middle so they’re more shoulder to shoulder again, “Wow.” he whispers breathlessly as he stares out over the water they’re above. 

Tony can see the breathless awe-stricken smile the captain wears. Apparently the lure of flying doesn’t  _ only  _ affect Tony. He smiles, “This is the best part.” his own voice is a whisper, as if sharing a secret.

Steve nods, “I can see why,” the man agrees as Tony brings them in over the city. The soldier looks spellbound as he stares over the buildings of the city he had once called home, “This is amazing,” he murmurs. It was an entirely different sensation then flying in a plane or a helicopter. 

Tony points at the tower. “That’s it!” he exclaims. His father looks in the direction of Tony’s finger. 

“It’s huge.” he sounds awed, “Is it all just office space?”

“The top few floors are residential. Mom and I live up there. Have for most of my childhood. Kept Mom closed to work so he didn’t have to spend as much time away from me. There’s a shared balcony at the top between our rooms. It's where we take off the suits.” Tony informs.

Steve nods but he’s staring at the tower with narrowed eyes, “Looks like you were right.” he indicates to the contraption and the scientist on the top of the tower. Tony brings them both in, listening to JARVIS inform him that the device is already self sustaining.

Well, isn’t that just  _ swell _ .

The cube is in some sort of device that Dr. Selvig has clearly rigged up. The man himself stands at a computer near it. When Tony hovers over the roof, the Captain releases his hold on Tony and the boy lets him drop. The man falls to a combat roll to disperse the impact of landing and then gets to his feet, shield in hand.

“Shut it down, Dr. Selvig.” instructs Steve, using his Captain America voice.

The scientist twists to face both the Captain on the ground and Tony, still hovering in the air, “It’s too late,” he replies breathlessly. “It can’t stop now. He wants to show us something.” 

The scientist’s eyes are an unnatural blue and he looks dazed, “A new universe.”

“Okay…” Tony grunts, powering up the repulsors in his gauntlets with a dull whine. He fires at the device and the feedback sends him flying from the tower. It sends Dr. Selvig flying into a stone construct on the roof and Captain America barely catches himself on the edge of the roof.

“Tony?!” comes his father’s voice over the line as he drags himself back properly onto the roof.

“I’m okay!” Tony immediately offers back.

Jarvis chimes in, “The barrier is pure energy. It’s unbreachable.”

Tony glances down. Loki is on the shared balcony, standing on the concrete slab between both of the elevated platforms that are meant to divest Tony and his mother of their suits. “Plan B then.” Tony sighs.

“What’s plan B?” The captain asks him.

“You trust me, Cap?” asks Tony quietly.

There isn’t any hesitation, “I do.” 

Tony descends toward his platform, “Just follow my lead.” he requests, as he lands on the device. The Captain jumps down on Tony’s left, balancing on the thin beam that runs parallel to the machinery and leads to Tony’s quarters.

_ Young Sir, the Mark VII is not ready for deployment _ , JARVIS’ weary voice speaks directly into his head using Tony’s link.

_ Then skips the spinning rims, we’re on the clock,  _ Tony responds mentally.

He calmly lands onto the platform and meets his father’s gaze. The captain nods once, assuring Tony he’s following him.Tony proceeds down the platform, he watches his father stare as the gleaming metal arc comes over Tony’s head to start taking apart his suit. Tony keeps walking, feeling his father’s worried gaze on him, but the man says nothing and merely follows him.

When his helmet comes off, Tony glances at Loki as the god heads up the stairs to the other entrance into Tony’s living area. The rest of the armor comes off, including Tony’s little bracelets. That’s fine. They won't work for the Mark VII anyway. 

Tony walks into the mini living room. He glances at the Captain who’s walking at his side. Tony mouths the words  _ Trust me.  _ The Captain nods. 

“Please tell me you're going to appeal to my humanity,” greets the god, sounding like he wants Tony to do just that. 

Tony looks down at the villain from his place at the top of the stairs. He heads for the steps, his father a silent shadow on Tony’s left, “Uh… Actually, I’m planning to threaten you.” corrects the boy.

The god laughs, “You should have left your armor on for that.”

“Yeah,” shrugs Tony as he heads down the stairs, “It’s seen a bit of mileage and you’ve got the little glow stick of destiny.” counters the teen, feigning nonchalance. 

The god glances in the direction of Tony’s father, “And the captain. How quaint.” his smile isn’t pleasant.

Steve merely follows his son, eyes never leaving the god for a second as he clenches his fingers around the handle on the shield.

“Would you like a drink?” Tony heads for the kitchen.

The man laughs bitterly, “Stalling me won’t change anything.”

“No, no, no… threatening.” Tony reminds him as he opens the fridge. “No drink, you sure? Soda? Water? I could probably find something alcoholic somewhere if you're so inclined.”

The god doesn’t answer.

Tony shrugs, “Suit yourself. I’m having one.” He grabs a Dr. Pepper can and turns to face the intruder.

The god turns his back to Tony to look out the window, “The Chitauri are coming. Nothing will change that.”

Tony glances at his father while the god is occupied for the moment. The man doesn’t seem to like it, but he’s following Tony’s lead for the time being. Tony offers him a reassuring smile before turning to look at the god just as he faces him once more. Loki’s eyes are daring, “What have I to fear?”

Tony sets the can on the counter and pops the lid, relishing in the familiar hiss. He lifts his eyes to the man, “The Avengers.” When the god merely looks confused, Tony adds with an eye roll and a shrug, “It’s what we call ourselves. Sort of like a team. Earth’s mightiest heroes type thing.”

The god has caught on and offers him a smug smile, “Yes, I’ve met them.”

Tony scoffs, “Yeah, takes a while to get any traction, I’ll give you that one. But let's do a head count here.”

Tony glances at and nods at his father. Steve blinks and then catches on, he steps up to the counter beside Tony and presses his palms to the surface as his shoulder bumps his son’s, “Your brother, the Demigod.”

That seems to hit a nerve as Loki makes a face. 

Tony smiles at his father and then continues, “A super soldier living legend who kind of lives up to the legend,” Tony gestures in the direction of the man he’s referencing. He takes advantage of the god turning and momentarily facing the window behind him to grab the prototype bracelets on the counter. He glances up at his father, meeting his eyes pointedly as he snaps the bracelets on each of his wrists. His father nods once, understanding. Tony offers a bland smile when the god returns his gaze to him. 

Steve picks up his turn at threatening the god, “Both the smartest and bravest person you’ll ever meet,” he indicates to Tony. The boy swallows thickly. He wasn’t planning on being included in the head count. He didn’t expect to be. His father offers him an honest to god smile before returning his harsh gaze to Loki and continuing, “Wearing a marvel of technology that intimidates even  _ me _ a little.”

Tony struggles to keep his voice even as he adds, “A man with breathtaking anger management issues.”

“A couple of master assassins,” His father chimes in easily.

Tony lifts his soda to indicate to the god as he finishes, “And you, big fella, you’ve managed to piss off every single one of them.”

“That was the plan.” offers the god. 

“Not a great plan,” Tony smiles as he walks in the direction of the god feigning an air of ease. The Captain walks with him, easily acting as nonchalant as Tony. 

Tony takes a drink and raises the can slightly to the god, “When the rest come, and they will, we’ll all come for you.”

“I have an army,” Loki counters.

“We have a hulk,” Steve interrupts, keeping step with Tony.

Loki raises a brow, “Oh, I thought the beast had wandered off-”

Tony cuts him off, “You're missing the point. There’s no throne. There’s no version of this where you come out on top.”

Steve seems to get where Tony is going with this. He squares his shoulders with his son and with a measured tone replies, “Maybe your army comes and maybe it’s too much for us but it’s all on you.”

Tony lifts his chin, eyes serious, “Because if we can’t protect the earth, you can be damn well sure we’ll avenge it.” Tony takes a sip from his can, eyes locked on the god.

Loki steps menacingly forward, “How will your friends have time for me… when they’re so busy fighting you.” The staff makes a whirring noise. His father stiffens next to him as the stick glows and for a second, Tony is worried. But only a second. Loki taps it to his chest and Tony hears the sure clink of it colliding with the arc reactor. The noise and lack of Tony’s reaction seems to stump the god. He frowns and taps it again. Tony smirks.

“This usually works,” he seems confused and Tony wants to laugh but he keeps his face even. He’s worried the god will attempt it on his father… and there’s no arc reactor buried in the super soldier’s chest.

So he goads the god.“Well, performance issues, not uncommon.” Loki looks at Tony and the teen is fairly sure he knows what is about to happen even as he continues, “One out of five.”

Loki grabs him around the throat. Tony can hear the subtle growl of his father as the god throws him toward the glass and Tony lands with a thump. 

He pulls himself up to his hands and knees and the god in approaching him. He meets his father’s gaze behind Loki and he’s right. The man looks panicked as Loki approaches him. He is already lifting the shield. 

Tony’s terrified the god will try his mind control trick on Steve. The boy doesn’t think he could fight his own father. He doesn’t want to have to. He shakes his head at Steve and the soldier hesitates just a moment.

_ JARVIS, any time now, buddy. _

The god picks Tony up by his neck and turns to face Steve, holding Tony in front of him by his throat, “Not another move, Captain, or the boy goes out the window of this very tall building.” he threatens. 

The captain stops moving, facing Loki with a grim look upon his face, he raises his arms in the universal gesture meant for  _ I mean no harm. _

Tony levels his father with his gaze. He pointedly raises both his arms where the bracelets sit against his wrists. His father frowns at Tony, as if trying to understand. He flashes his eyes an electric blue as he activates the suit in the cupboard, no longer caring if it’s completely ready or not. He’s out of time. The color flare of his eyes seems to simultaneously reassure and unnerve the captain.

_ “Deploy!” _ Tony shouts both mentally and verbally, twisting in Loki’s grip and swinging his leg back to land the heel of his foot squarely in the fork of Loki’s legs. The man snarls and launches him at the window.

The window shatters around him in a shower of multicolored glass lit by sunlight. He hears the hum of the suit and sees the blue, red, and white bulk launch for him as he drops.

“ **TONY!** ” His father’s voice cries sharply over his comm and from the room he’d just been thrown from. Tony twists his body around in the air, offering his arms out for the armor

He free falls for only a second before the suit reaches him. He hears the hum of the machinery getting to him and the buzz associated with when the suit reads his bracelets. It quickly begins to fold around him.

His helmet and HUD come up and with a thought, Tony activates the repulsors to flip himself around midair. He’s still quite a few stories up, only about halfway down the length of the tower. He soars back in the direction of the penthouse suites and reaches the blown window to find Loki and his father engaged in hand to hand.

His father sees him first and Tony witnesses the play of relief over his features. The god twists around in surprise, staring at Tony like he’s seen a ghost.

“And there’s one other person you pissed off,” Tony snarls, “His name is Phil.” He points his palm at the god and fires off a repulsor that hits true. The god hits the ground with a satisfying thump and Tony grins.

The boy hovers in the air before his father, the man takes a few quick steps toward Tony.

“See. All good. Suited up again and everything.” Tony assures. His father stares at him, relief written across his features. He also looks a bit in awe of the suit. Tony does a twirl mid air, “You approve I take it.”

This suit is similar to the last but it's a bit more streamlined. There’s a bit more height due to the added propulsion system in his boots, but it doesn’t really weigh him down. It’s all still the dark blue with the silver white face plate and Captain America like star on the chest, but now a thick band of red and white run diagonally up the outsides of his arms and legs. The front most plates that cover his shins are also the deep red, along with his gauntlets.

Outside, an unfamiliar noise catches Tony’s attention. He looks up and sees a beam of light emanating from the device on the roof. It opens a black portal in the sky and Tony feels his heart sinking as creatures pour out. “Right…. Army.” he mutters.

The captain races toward him and Tony grabs him around the waist. They adjust for a heartbeat to the position they’d had before and then Tony angles up toward the portal. 

The captain throws his shield and knocks one of the creatures from it’s ride while Tony shoots off his repulsors. He weaves in and around the creatures and blasts aimed for them both. Tony’s not nearly as agile with his father hanging on and it slows him down a bit more than he’s used to. He’s hit by one of the creatures on his left and spins a bit, nearly losing hold of Captain America.

Tony grunts from the impact before lifting a plate in his shoulder and releasing the small artillery regiment he has hidden there. The missiles go flying and take down a large portion of who he’s fighting, but Tony can’t stop all of it.

A portion of the creatures go wide, descending onto the streets below and causing havoc on the civilians of New York. Both of the heroes curse loudly and Tony angles for the ground. He has a tail of quite a few of the things and he’s too slow holding the Captain.

“Drop me!” the man in question instructs.

“What?!”

“Get us a bit closer and drop me. Those things are catching us and I know I’m weighing you down. I can do more good on the ground than in the air anyway.”

Tony nods once, angling for the busy streets below as cop cars wail in the distance, rapidly approaching. When he gets close enough, the captain drops from him and it momentarily sets Tony off balance. He takes a hit to his left flank and barrel rolls in the air as he watches the captain stand from his own combat roll to face the tail that had split off after him.

“Be careful!” shouts his father as Tony swings around and away from the fight below. He’s got more of a tail now and is thankful when he hears Romanov cut in on the mainline, “Kid, we’re on your 3 headed northeast.”

Tony huffs, “What? Did you stop for Drive Thru?” he glances at his readout before adding, “Swing up Park, I’m gonna lay ‘em out for you.” he instructs.

He does just that and doesn’t have time to celebrate when most of his tail is obliterated by the fighter jet. 

“Young Sir, we have more incoming.” informs JARVIS.

“Fine. Well, let’s keep ‘em occupied,” He responds before turning to do just that. On his far right he watches the Quinjet go down and winces, narrowly avoiding a volley of artillery set his way. He glances off the side of a skyscraper.

“Widow? Hawkeye? Report!” his father’s voice breaks in.

“We’re okay. Thor’s up top with Loki. We gotta get back up there!” replies Widow.

“Hang on, I’m coming up on your 6.” Cap replies and Tony doesn’t get to look and see them meet up, as he’s too busy distracting the small battalion after him.

A large flag ship comes through the portal and Tony stares on in horror. It looks alive? Like some sort of creature. Tony has no idea what to think of it. He feels sick.

His father’s voice cuts in, “Tony, you seeing this?”

Tony swallows, “Seeing… still working on believing. Where’s Banner, has he shown up yet?” 

“Banner?” his father sounds confused. 

Tony shakes his head minutely, “Just keep me posted. JARVIS, find me a soft spot.”

“Tony, don’t do anything stupid!” Cap instructs. 

Tony snorts, “Right back at 'cha, Cap.”

Tony gets the attention of the creature before realizing just what he’s done. The Iron Patriot does a midair about-face and takes off while the thing gives chase.

“What’s the story upstairs?” he hears his father ask.

Thor replies, “The barrier surrounding the cub is impenetrable.” 

Tony glances off a building and soars past the small group down below, “Thor’s right. We’ve got to deal with these guys.”

He narrowly evades a blast from his right and then again from his left. He banks right around a building just as Widow asks, “How do we do this?”

“As a team.” replies Captain America. 

“I have unfinished business with Loki,” informs the blond god.

“Yeah… get in line.” That’s Hawkeye and Tony can commiserate.

“Save it, Loki’s gonna keep this fight focused on us and that’s what we need. Without him, these things could run wild. We’ve got Tony up top, he’s gonna need us to-” The captain cuts off and Tony frowns.

A blast catches his shoulder, a reprimand for him paying more attention to the byplay down below. He does another about face rapidly and shoots off a few repulsor blasts at the individual enemies following him on the little saucers.

Before the flagship can get a bead on him, he darts past, forcing the large creature to make a wide turn and buying him precious time.

“Tony? We’ve got him.” His father’s voice on the comms gets his attention. 

“Banner?” he clarifies.

“Yeah. Just like you said.”

Tony glances over his HUD, “Then tell him to suit up. I’m bringing the party to you.” he informs, banking wide around the glass wall of a still standing skyscraper. He heads straight down the middle, where he knows his father and the others are. He watches the creature graze the building and the skyscraper grumbles to one side.

“I- I don’t see how that's a party.” Widow mutters in his ear and Tony can’t offer a witty comeback seeing as how he’s too busy evading the Leviathan.

He deftly avoids the side of the creature, gliding low and fast, so close to the street he could probably reach out to touch it.

“Dr. Banner, now might be a good time for you to get angry.” his father’s voice echoes over the comms.

He doesn’t hear the man's response but Tony banks off just in time to see the Hulk causing the massive creature to flip head over tail, exposing the soft underside.

“Hold on!” Tony releases a small volley of artillery and the thing dissolves in a rain of flesh and flames. Tony drops to the ground slowly, taking his place in the little circle on the Avengers, right next to his father.

They all look around and for a brief moment, Tony feels like maybe they can do this.

Then Widow directs their attention to where more are pouring from the portal. Tony’s heart sinks to his stomach. His voice is rough when he addresses his father, “Call it, Captain.”

The soldier takes a few steps forward before turning back to face the group, “Alright, listen up. Until we can close that portal, our priority is containment. Barton,” he faces the man and points at a roof, “I want you on that roof, eyes on everything. Call out patterns and strays.” Barton nods at the orders.

The captain indicates to the teenager, “Tony, you’ve got the perimeter. Anything gets more than three blocks out, you turn it back or you turn it to ash. And, dammit, be careful.” Tony nods.

“You wanna give me a lift?” asks the archer. 

Tony nods, “Right. Better clench up, Legolas.” Then he grabs the back of Barton where he can and blasts off for the roof.

He hears his father’s voice over the comms continuing to give orders to the other avengers. He drops Barton on the requested roof before turning to do as the Captain had said, running a perimeter around the three-block perimeter.

“Kid, you’ve gotta lotta strays sniffing your tail.” reports Barton a handful of minutes later.

“Just try’na keep’em off the streets,” Tony counters, even as he’s scrambling to keep just out of their reach. The read out that comes across his HUD is terrifying and right now, all he can think about is all of the people dying down below. 

Is he a bad person for being glad his aunt Pepper is far away on business? 

Rhodey’s here though. He’s only 7 blocks away. Tony needs to keep them contained. He needs to keep them here, focusing on him and the other avengers who have the means to fight back so Rhodey doesn’t get hurt. So no one else has to get hurt.

“Well, they can't bank worth a damn. Find a tight corner.” the archer instructs.

Tony swallows, forcing away his dark thoughts, “I will Roger that.”

There’s a beat, “Thought it was Rogers-Stark?”

Tony snorts, “Wow, that was bad even for you, Legolas.” But he’s smiling and some part of him is pretty sure that’s what the archer was going for.

Tony doesn’t get to enjoy it for long as he storms through the city, glancing off the sides of buildings and careening through parking garages. The archer takes out a few of his strays, but Tony is left to deal with the rest when he gets out of range. He finds a tight area and takes out the rest, just as the archer had said.

“Nice call. What else ya got?”

Tony banters with Barton a bit before heading in the direction he instructed. The fight wages on for a while, Tony’s suit is still fairly undamaged but the amount of aliens pouring out of the portal has Tony despairing. 

“Jarvis? You ever hear the tale of Jonah?”

“I wouldn’t consider him a role model.” Tony’s lips quirk and he barrels through one of the big guy’s blasting out through the other end. The force throws him clean through a small building. He grunts from the force, his suit whining from the damage but Tony’s unharmed and that’s really all that matters.

Some of the creature's surprise him with a few blasts and he is blasted through a glass wall. He gasps as the breath is knocked from his lungs, head swimming. 

“Tony! You hear me?” Fury’s voice over his comm has him scrambling to his feet, “You have a missile heading straight for the city.”

“How long?” he grunts. The creatures are surrounding him but Tony’s suit is meant to aid him in hand to hand as much as it is in the air. The iron man suit is more missiles and artillery. Tony’s suit is meant to keep him safe and work with his natural advantages. 

He kicks one of the weapons out of the things hand and throws him through a building before turning on the rest. He takes out another with its own gun.

“Three minutes. Max. Payload could wipe out midtown.” The man responded.

Tony grunts. Tony doesn’t have time to take out these little guys then. “JARVIS, put everything we’ve got into the thrusters.”

“I just did, young sir.” 

Tony blasts off, kicking at the creature who clings to him. He heads in the direction the missile’s coming from. He doesn’t think, just flies. 

“I can close it. Does anybody copy? I can shut the portal down.” It’s Widow's voice over the comms.

“Do it!” The Captain cuts in.

“No, wait!” Tony argues, as he closes in on the missile. 

“These things are still coming,” His father replies. 

“I’ve got a nuke coming in. It’s gonna blow in less than a minute.” Tony reads over his HUD as he angles downwind, eyes on the missile, “And I know just where to put it...” he finishes a little breathlessly. 

He catches up to the missile, getting his arms around it as it hits him what he’s doing. What the consequences are for what he’s doing. His head swims but he clings on to the artillery anyway. He swallows, running over odds and percentages, other options.

He can't think of a single alternative, despite the fact that he knows the odds of his surviving this are less than 5%. He hangs on as it carries him toward the city he grew up in. The city he loved. The city that, if he doesn’t do this, will be nothing but a crater.

“Tony,” Steve’s voice breaks in, sounding choked with emotion, “You- you can’t- that- that’s a one way trip.”

Tony swallows, “Save the rest for the turn, J.” he instructs the AI.

Jarvis’ voice is subdued, “Young sir, would you like a private line with the captain?”

Tony exhales, “Go ahead, J.”

There’s the subtle sound of the connection going through and Tony tries his best to keep his voice even, “Dad.”

Over the comm link there’s the bark of bitter laughter, “You know, as much as I love it when you call me that, I’m not too fond of the circumstances.”

Tony feels his lips quirk in a bitter smile, “I’ll work on it.”

“Tony, you-” the Captain tries to argue, his voice is watery and desperate.

Tony doesn’t let him get far, “When you find Mom… tell him that I’m sorry. That he… he was everything I could have ever asked for. Tell him-”

“Tony!” his Dad breaks in, “You’re gonna tell him yourself.” his voice is wrecked and Tony can hear the tears and he has never felt more guilty even as he sees the beam for the portal. Even as he directs the missile toward it.

“Tell him that I love him.” Tony insists, his own voice wet and wobbly. He doesn’t want to die. He doesn’t want to take the missile through the portal. He wants to find his mother. To watch movies with Rhodey and go to Lunch with aunt Pepper. He wants to know his father, wants to know him besides history books and his mother’s stories. He wants to be a family.

But he’s not selfish enough to not want that for all of the families who’ll be destroyed. Rhodey’s in the line of fire along with a million civilians. The Avengers are in the line of fire. His Father is in the line of fire.

That’s unacceptable.

“Tony-” His father’s voice is anguished and full of grief and he would do  _ anything _ to change that. Anything but this. Anything but let millions die to save himself. He can’t do that.

“You too.” Tony interrupts again, feeling tears run down his cheeks. He’s rapidly approaching the portal. “I love you. I know you don’t know me very well, but I know you. You’ve always been my hero, Dad. I love you.” His suit breaches the portal.

“Tony, I-” 

The comm goes dead. A chokes noise echoes in the suit and Tony takes a moment to realize the noise came from him. 

His repulsors are failing and JARVIS’ voice comes through warped as he drifts through space, armored hands still clutching the missile. The suit goes dark around him and the lack of oxygen has his head spinning. He feels delirious. Tony feels his arm let go of the nuke, even though he didn’t instruct them to do that. He’s falling back toward the portal as his large blue eyes watch the Nuke fly toward open space.

Army. It’s an army and Tony can’t breathe. There’s so many of them. How can there be so many of them?

The missile detonates, the blinding flash and feedback throwing him back even harder, then everything goes black.

* * *

“Tony,” Steve’s voice is wrecked and he’s on his knees. He can barely breathe with the thought of losing Tony. Losing his son. A boy he barely knows but he knows Tony’s as bright as the sun. Tony’s everything he’s ever wanted. He’d go through it all again.

He’d endure the pain of the serum, his days as nothing more than a dancing monkey, losing Bucky off the train, saying goodbye to Howard over the radio as he guides the Voyager  _ down down down _ . He’d gladly hit the water again, gasping as water filled his lungs, freezing him from the inside out. He’d wake up 60 years into the future and think he’d lost everything he’s ever known.

He’d go through all of that again, a million times over, if he could just keep Tony. He wants to say all of that, but all that comes out is, “I love you too.” 

The comm cuts off in the middle of the words.

Steve sobs, feeling like the air is knocked from his lungs. He’s kneeling on the ground, feeling like someone tore his heart straight from his chest. He can’t breathe and Thor is the one defending him from the Chitauri. He just stares helplessly at the portal.

“Come on, kiddo. Come back to us,” he hears Widow over the comm.

“Hold it,” Steve’s voice is wet and broken. He doesn’t even sound like him anymore, “Hold the portal. Don't you dare close it… not till he comes back through.”

No one argues with him, even when there's the blinding flash of the nuke going off on the other side. Even as each of the aliens fall and the flag ship crashes into the side of a building the portal stays open.

Steve stays kneeling, eyes not leaving the opening as he prays the suit of blue will fall through. That Tony will come home.

_ Please, Tony. I can’t do this without you. I can’t live without you. Please don't leave me. Don’t leave me, Tony. There’s so much I need to say. I can’t do this without you... _

“Captain!” Thor bellows.

Steve’s head snaps to. He sees a body fall from the portal. He can’t breathe, “Tony!”

“Son of a bitch,” Barton mutters over the line, sounding awed.

“He’s not slowing down!” Thor swings his hammer around his wrist.

Steve’s already running. He’s already running but even as he sprints down the street, vaulting over obstacles in the way, he knows he’s not gonna get there in time. “Tony!” he screams, voice breaking from the force of the word tearing out of his throat.

The hulk catches the suit and they both crash into the side of a building, the creature using the side to slow his descent before he drops to the street below in a loose roll. The suit in his arms is dead weight, like a rag doll. Steve feels like he’s gonna be sick as he throws himself over the top of an overturned taxi and reaches them both. His heart is hammering in his ears.

He finds the catch on the face plate without thinking, throwing the thing to the pavement silently. Thor is bent over with him but the god isn’t interfering, allowing Steve to take the lead. 

“Tony!” he sobs, collapsing onto the chest of the suit. He presses an ear close to his mouth, hoping to hear him breathing.

He’s not.

He presses a hand over the center of the star on his chest, where there should be a light.

“Tony, you can’t-” he chokes off a sob, “Come on, Tony. Sweetheart,” his voice breaks with a sob and his face is wet. He can’t breathe. “Open your eyes, baby. Please, don’t do this to me.” he begs, voice barely there. “Don’t do this to me, Tony. Open your eyes. Breathe!” 

He can’t breathe.

Tony is-

He can’t be-

No.

It’s dead silent and Steve doesn’t dare move. Doesn’t even notice the movement of the Hulk until the creature yells, causing Steve to flinch and Tony to-

Tony jumps, eyes fluttering open and the center of the star lighting up, the boy yells his alarm as he gasps for breath. Steve doesn’t move, staring in disbelief for a moment.

“Dad?” is the croak of the kid’s voice, his eyes flicker disoriented and his brows are knit together in confusion and-

He’s alive.

Tony’s alive.

“Dad? Why are you crying? What happened?” Tony’s voice is rough and there's a cut marring his cheek but he’s here. Alive. Breathing. 

Steve remembers how to move and talk again. He remembers how to breath. He sucks in a lungful of air, shifting as close as possible to the teen, “Tony!” his voice is rough from emotion but he’s lifting the boy in the armor into his lap and hugging him close. Armored arms come around him and squeeze him weakly back.

“You’re okay,” Steve all but sobs against the armored shoulder. 

Tony’s breath is airy and whisper quiet but filled with so much emotion, “I’m okay. I promise, I’m okay.”

Steve’s never letting him go again. 

“What happened?” asks Tony quietly, sounding confused and disoriented.

Steve can’t think of anything past the feeling of Tony’s warm forehead pressed against his cheek. He doesn't know anything more than Tony’s sweet smell, a blend of him and Howard and something that is so purely  _ Tony _ it makes his chest constrict. He can’t say anything more than a babble of  _ TonyTonyTonyYou’reOkay. _

So Thor’s the one who answers over Steve’s shoulder.

“We won.”

Steve doesn’t even care. 

He’s never letting Tony go again.


	6. Eggshells

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Tony,” Steve cuts him off, “As much as it is a relief to know that you are physically alright, that isn't what I was asking.”
> 
> Tony sighs and turns in Steve’s arms so he can press his face against his shoulder. “Every time I close my eyes, I’m back there.”
> 
> Steve’s arms tighten around the boy and he pressed his face against his son’s hair. “Tony…” he crooned quietly.
> 
> Tony lifts his head, “You didn’t see it. None of you did but, Dad, there was an army. A fleet. There were so many of them...”
> 
> Steve pauses to look at the boy, mouth turning down, “The nuke-”
> 
> “Definitely put a dent in their numbers but it wasn't nearly enough. What if they come back?” returns Tony.
> 
> Steve looks worried at the thought.

Steve had yet to let him go.

He’d had a hand on the teen throughout the confrontation with Loki and their impromptu stop for Shawarma. Whether that be holding Tony’s hand, wrapping an arm around Tony’s shoulders, or a warm palm on the teen’s back. Steve still hadn’t let him go.

Even now, as they saw the Asguardians off, Steve has his arm wrapped around Tony’s shoulders. Tony can feel blue eyes on him. They keep flickering over and giving Tony a once over, as if the soldier is afraid Tony’s gonna disappear.

Actually, that’s probably exactly what the Captain is worried about considering Tony had actually died. 

He hadn’t realized that at first, merely thinking that he’d just passed out. It wasn’t until Tony had nearly snapped at his father, after they had taken Loki in, that JARVIS had informed him. The AI had spoken quietly into his thoughts and had told the teen that the Captain’s reaction to Tony’s death had been fairly heartbreaking.

The AI said he had the audio for it if he needed to hear it.

Tony was pretty damn sure he didn’t. 

He believed the AI. He didn’t need to physically hear the consequences of his actions, despite the need for them. He already felt guilty. The tear tracks on his father’s world-weary face made a lot more sense now.

Tony felt awful.

Not only that, but now he was anxious. 

Tony had become just as clingy. His head spun with the implications of all of what JARVIS had told him. His hand kept coming up to drum on the reactor, as if to reassure himself it was still there. Then there was the fact that it took JARVIS’ quiet words to remind Tony that the Captain shouldn’t  _ even be here _ . Tony hadn’t really dwelled on the miraculous feat all that much but now it had kicked in full tilt.

Tony should have never even met his father.

By all logic and odds, it was practically impossible.

But yet… here the man was at Tony’s side. Alive and breathing. 

Tony whole-heartedly climbed aboard the never letting each other go train. The teen also found himself double checking to see if the Captain was still there,  _ alive and whole _ even as he clutched at the man’s arm.

Tony hadn’t let him go either.

Father and son watched the Asguardians disappear while they stood in the now relative peace of the day. After that, everything kind of passed in a blur.

The two assassins had driven away in an unmarked car. Tony had offered Bruce shelter at his tower, but the man had merely shaken his head as he looked between father and son. The scientist’s eyes lingered on the hand Steve had on Tony’s shoulder. He mentioned something about not wanting to intrude.

Tony would have argued the point if Steve hadn’t tugged Tony close against his side. 

So Tony just nodded and waved as the man got into his own unmarked SHIELD provided car. The two of them both watched as Bruce drove away. They stood in relative silence until the vehicle was just a speck on the horizon.

Steve rubbed a hand down Tony’s back before nudging him gently, “Ever been on a motorcycle?” asked his father, a conspiratorial whisper to his tone.

Tony glanced at him with a raised brow.

The man grinned wickedly and tugged him in the direction of a bike. Most likely SHIELD provided. Tony was already thinking of all the ways he could attempt to improve it. He watched as Steve threw a leg over the bike, still not letting go of his hand.

Tony climbed on after him, slipping his arms around the man’s waist and holding on tightly. Steve kicked off and Tony felt so much lighter as a peel of laughter was pulled from his lips even as he clung to his father.

The adrenaline dump of everything that had happened still hadn’t left his system and he felt a little dizzy from it all. He felt like the Captain hadn’t processed everything quite yet either, despite the fact that the man still had one hand over Tony’s hands on his stomach.

While they drove silently through the city, Tony linked up with JARVIS and both child and AI did a quick recount of all the damage the tower had taken. JARVIS was instructed to come up with a list of everything that needed to be replaced or generally fixed and Tony pinged his Aunt Pepper to let the woman know he was safe.

“Where to, kiddo?” asked his father after they had done a quiet lap through the still mostly destroyed city. 

Tony paused to consider.

“JARVIS says the tower is uninhabitable at the moment, so really my choices are our summer home in Malibu or a hotel for the time being.” he rationalized out loud.

Steve stiffened and Tony immediately realized why. The teen quickly added, “If you think I don’t want you to come with or if I want to go anywhere without you, you’re insane.”

Steve relaxed and without a word he carefully paused the bike on a sidestreet. 

Tony threaded his fingers through his father’s, “You’re not getting rid of me that easily, old man.” he murmured. The man squeezed his fingers and leaned back a bit into Tony.

Tony sighed, “So… Malibu or Hotel?”

Steve frowned, “If Howard is missing… who is supposed to be looking after you?”

Tony paused, “My best friend, Rhodey’s, mother.”

Steve twisted a little toward Tony, “Does she know-?”

Tony shook his head. Steve groaned.

“Tony, didn’t you think that she might panic with you missing?”

Tony shook his head again, “I’m not missing. Rhodey was up when I was called out. He said he’d cover for me.”

Steve sighed, “That’s a little better, but someone should probably be told what’s going on. I can’t just take you. Hell, I don’t even know if you want to go with me.”

Tony swallowed. “That conversation you said we should have? Maybe we should have that. Then figure out what to do next,” the boy murmured quietly. 

Steve nodded. “Fair enough,” then he kicked off with the bike and zoomed down the street before banking back onto the main road. Tony hadn’t been expecting the movement, so he clutched onto his father and hung on.

His vivid blue eyes watched the city as it passed. Steve weaved expertly in and around obstacles and seemed to have some place in mind that he was headed for so Tony quietly hung on and just enjoyed the ride.

Nearly half an hour later, the sun was starting to descend though they probably had a couple hours at the least. Steve had driven them to Brooklyn. Tony knew the burrow well considering how much time he and Howard had spent down here when he was a child.

The soldier stopped the bike on the curb in front of the park. Tony raised his head and recognized it immediately, “Sunset Park?”

Steve paused and stepped off the bike, carefully grabbing Tony when the boy wobbled a little from the movement. “So I am right. I thought so. It just looks different.” Steve blinked up at the park.

Tony nodded, “Probably. Sixty years is a long time. Hasn’t changed much since I’ve been alive though.”

Steve frowned tilting his head, “You live in Manhattan. You come here a lot?”

Tony smiled, “Mom’s kind of dragged me up and down most of Brooklyn since I was old enough to remember. Probably before then too if I’m being honest.”

Steve blinked, eyes going soft at the corners, and swallowed hard. Then he offered a hand to Tony and helped the boy off the bike. Tony wobbled a bit on solid ground and Steve steadied him. They’d been driving longer than he’d thought.

Steve guided him by the hand to the park and the two found a shaded bench in the mostly deserted park. Steve sat beside Tony on the bench and the two of them marinated in silence for a bit.

“So...uh….” Tony broke.

Steve chuckled. “This was a bit easier when we didn’t have much time to talk I think. Not as much pressure.”

Tony nodded. Steve turned to face him. “Why don’t we start with you? I mean, it seems like you know everything about me… but I know practically nothing about you.”

“What I know about you comes from secondhand stories and history books or comics,” Tony spoke quietly, looking down.

Steve reached for the boy before reconsidering and placing his hand on Tony’s knee. The kid looked up and Steve swallowed, “Look, Tony. I don’t know what I’m doing here. All I know is that I woke up a week ago thinking I’d lost everything and it turns out Howard is still alive and I gained a son while I was ‘ _ sleeping.’ _ Then I nearly lost that son twice in one day before I even got a chance to know him.”

Tony blinked. He’d not considered it that way.

Steve continued, “So I have no idea what I’m doing. I don’t want to overstep any or make you uncomfortable but I also want…” Steve trailed off.

Tony sat up straighter, “Well, why don’t we just not.”

Steve frowned and Tony leaned a little toward him, “Instead of this stupid thing where we’re both incredibly awkward and afraid we’re gonna do something the other doesn’t like, how about we just skip all that.”

Steve looks confused.

“It’s over rated.” Tony continues, “It’s like something out of some bad movie. Us both walking on eggshells because we’re afraid it will scare the other off or make them uncomfortable. It’s complete bullshit because we probably honestly both want the same thing and it’s just a bunch of overthinking getting in the way.”

Steve is staring at him, “So what? Just… stop thinking?”

“Stop over thinking it.” Tony agrees nodding, “Do or say whatever you want to. Be brave, Captain America. We just faced down a literal god and won. We can get over a little fear of rejection. Reach for what you want and if it makes me uncomfortable, I’ll tell you and won’t hold it against you. And I’ll do the same. That beats us playing a game of emotional chicken for days on end till one of us snaps.”

Steve stares and Tony feels his bravado fading with the adrenaline that’s slowly leaving his system. He suddenly felt like he’d messed everything up yet again. Before he could try and apologize or do some damage control, Steve grinned at him.

“God, you’re so much like Howard. I’m pretty sure he gave me a speech awfully close to that when we first got together.” He chuckled. Tony blinked. That wasn’t a story he’d heard before.

He was constantly being showered in how much he was like Steve with anecdotes and comparisons, since his mother was the person he’d spent most of his time with. Sure, he got a couple of remarks about how he was like his mother here and there, but it was mostly to do with his intelligence. He didn’t get many stories or honest to god comparisons.

“Really?” asked Tony, leaving forward.

“Really.” Steve nodded. He lifted a hand and it hovered in mid air when Steve hesitated, but then Tony met the man’s eyes and the captain seemed to decide something as he tenderly brushed Tony’s bangs off of his forehead. 

The simple action had Tony’s heart in his throat and it only got worse when Steve murmured quietly, “You stumped me back on the quinjet when we were debriefing with the others. I didn't understand what you were doing there and I called you a kid. You got  _ so _ mad at me, and then at Fury. I didn’t know what it was back then but now I do. You reminded me  _ so _ vividly of Howard. Your eyebrows crinkle and your lips purse and your shoulders hunch the exact same way. You have the same fire and passion. I didn’t understand it then but now I do.”

Tony felt like someone had stolen his breath. His voice was hoarse when he replied, “You know, when I get angry or yell, people usually compare me to you, not Mom.”

Steve chuckles, carding his fingers through Tony’s hair, “There might be some crossover.”

Tony smiles.

They both lapsed into silence for a few moments. Steve freed his fingers from Tony’s hair before lowering them to trace the already healing laceration that marred the top of the brunet’s cheek just below his right eye.

“No walking on eggshells?” Steve clarified. At Tony’s nod, the man added, “You might regret those words.”

Tony leaned into his hand as his father shifted to cup his cheek, “Me too?” Steve nods and Tony smiles warmly, “Then I really don’t think I will.”

There was a beat of hesitation where Steve just looked at him, as if trying to read Tony’s thoughts. Whatever his father sees on his face must reassure him because a moment later, the man is hauling Tony into his arms. He pulls the surprised teen into his lap and wraps two large arms around Tony while crushing the boy to his chest and burying his nose in his hair.

Tony makes a vaguely surprised noise, but clutches back as well, fingers digging into the fabric of his father’s shirt.

“Don’t ever do that to me again,” His father’s voice is raw and broken in a thousands ways and Tony reels from it, not understanding how the man had gone from seemingly okay to upset in a heartbeat. He knew Steve wasn’t quite alright, by the way he had yet to release a hand from the teen for even a moment and the glassy look to his eyes, but he didn’t expect this.

“Jesus Christ, Tony.” Steve pulls back to meet Tony’s eyes and the man’s are red, his face faintly flushed from emotion. Those baby blues are glassy with unshed tears and Tony feels his stomach drop, “I don’t think you understand, Tony. You went through that portal and I thought you were never coming back. I thought I had lost you before I had even had you...”

“I didn’t want to,” Tony replied. His voice sounds rough to his own ears, “I couldn’t find any other way. I ran the options, the chances and percentages again and again. If that missile went off in Midtown, it would have leveled most of the city. There would have been after effects as far in as Pennsylvania.”

“Tony-” Steve’s voice is strangled as he presses his forehead to Tony’s, “We could have found some other way.”

Tony’s voice raises and cracks with his desperation, “There was no other way!” he insists. 

Steve shakes his head minutely, “You didn’t even give us a chance to try there had to be someth-”

“We didn’t have the time!” Tony interrupts, his voice raising. “Fury told me with less than three minutes left to do anything. I got to the damn thing with only sixty seconds before detonation. I barely had the time to do what I did. We didn’t even get to finish our conversation, remember? I ran the percentages. I looked for other options. Do you think I  **wanted** to do that?!”

Tony was shaking and his breaths were coming fast now, “And you were  _ crying _ on the line with me.  _ Crying _ . I would have done anything to make you stop.  _ Anything _ but that. I couldn’t just let a million people die, Dad.” His voice broke. “Rhodey was in the line of fire. The Avengers were in the line of fire.  _ You _ were in the line of fire. I couldn’t-” Tony’s voice breaks and there are tears running down his cheeks.

“It’s not your job to save me, Tony.” Steve’s voice was a soothing murmur as he rubbed his hands down Tony’s arms, reaching shaking fingertips up to brush Tony’s tears away.

Tony shakes his head vehemently, “All I could think about was how much I didn’t want to do what I did. I just got you and you think I wanted to die? I wanted to live! I wanted to see Rhodey again and my aunt Pepper! I wanted to go find Mom with you! I wanted to sit on this damn bench and have this conversation you promised me!” He chokes off a sob and Steve brushes the hair from his face.

The man opens his mouth again but Tony interrupts him with a quiet whimper, “You’ve been gone my entire life and, as I carried that damn missile, all I wanted was my dad.” 

Tony lifted his gaze to meet blue eyes that were also leaking tears. Tony reached up and his own fingers shook as he wiped them away, “I just wanted you.”

Steve swallowed thickly and tugged Tony close to his chest, pressing his small face against his neck as he buried his own nose in Tony’s thick brown curls. “You have me.” 

Tony sobbed against his neck and Steve squeezed him gently, “I’m not going anywhere, Tony. You have me. I promise. Always.”

Tony swallowed thickly and rubbed his nose along the scent gland of Steve’s neck, allowing himself to be comforted by the scent. The boy hiccupped and gasped for breath, he closed his eyes and behind them was the merciless vacuum of space. His breath came strangled and Steve rubbed his hands down Tony’s back. He wordlessly found Tony’s hand trapped between their bodies and brought it up to place the fingertips against his pulse point. Steve breathed with him and rocked the boy until his sobs subsided and their breaths evened out.

It was silent for a long time before Steve cupped the boy's face with one hand and angled it up to meet his eyes. He brushed a few lingering tears away. “The comm cut out before I could finish the words, but I love you, Tony.” he murmured, soothingly.

Tony blinked and then sputtered, “B-but you don’t-”

“I know enough, sweetheart.” Steve hushed, brushing his fingers through tangled curls. “I know that you are the  _ bravest _ person I’ve ever met. I know that you're stubborn and driven and incredibly brilliant. I know you’d do anything for those you love and quite a bit for even those you don’t. I know you're my son and I’ve never been more proud of anyone than I am of you. I know  _ I love you _ , Tony. That’s all I  _ need _ to know to love you, sweetheart.” he pressed a kiss to the top of Tony’s head.

The boy pressed his face against his father’s neck and Steve felt tears hit his skin. He rubbed his hands down Tony’s back and pressed his face against Tony’s hair. 

“I love you too,” was Tony’s murmur only a few moments later. The words were rough from emotion and a little garbled against his skin, but Steve smiled into Tony's hair and inhaled. He took a few breaths before he lifted his face and tipped Tony’s up at him.

“Tony, please, sweetheart. Never do that to me again. Promise you’ll never do that to me again.” begged Steve.

Tony smiled weakly but shook his head, “You know I can’t, Dad.”

Steve made a pained noise, “Tony-”

“You downed a jet carrying a crap-load of bombs bound for New York into the Arctic ocean. You said goodbye to my mother over the radio, you told him there was no other way.” Tony’s voice is even despite the emotion shining in his eyes.

Steve blanches, looking stricken. “Tony-”

“Could you promise me or Mom that you’d never do that again?” asks Tony quietly. 

Steve pauses. He swallows thickly and closes his eyes, knowing he couldn’t promise that. He could lie to Tony, but… He won’t lie to Tony.

“I’m your son, Dad. You can’t make that promise and neither can I.” Tony reaches up and brushes a stray tear from his father’s face.

Steve sighs and leans back, “I’m starting to understand where your mother’s coming from. I wish you were more like him too.”

“Are you kidding me?” snorts Tony, “You think Mom could make that promise? You’re delusional.”

Steve laughs bitterly and hugs Tony tightly. Tony squeaks from the movement and Steve presses a kiss to his forehead. “Okay, so I know you're this incredibly brave and self-sacrificing kid, but maybe you could promise this?”

Tony glanced up at his father, “What?”

“That you’ll tell me what’s going on. That you’ll let me try and find another way as much as you can. That you’ll let me help.” Steve runs his fingers through Tony’s hair.

The boy runs an eye over his father, “Can you make the same promise?”

“Yes.”

“Then yes.”

Steve nods, seemingly satisfied. They both sit in relative silence, Tony counting his father’s heartbeats against his cheek and Steve running his fingers through Tony’s hair before Tony breaks it, “I didn’t know I died.”

Steve flinches before his eyes find Tony’s. The boy continues, “I didn’t know. I just thought I passed out or something. I didn’t know till I nearly snapped at you for all your hovering and then JARVIS told me.”

Steve makes a wounded sound. There’s a lot to unpack there but he focuses on the bit he doesn’t know about, “Who’s JARVIS? I know there was a man by that name that was Howard’s butler way back when, but somehow I get the idea we’re talking about two different people.”

Tony shakes his head, “No. That Jarvis died when I was three. The JARVIS I’m referring to actually stands for Just A Rather Very Intelligent System. He’s an AI, an artificial intelligence, which is basically like a really complicated computer program that can think for itself and even act a little human. Mom and I made JARVIS, though he’s more Mom’s baby than mine. He runs the tower and Mom’s suit. Mine too, but I tend to need him a bit less with my ability. I’m working on my own right now but she’s still very much a work in progress.”

Steve pursed his lips, still a bit confused but getting the basic concept, “So, he can talk to you? But I didn’t see you talk to anyone?”

Tony looked a little sheepish, “Yeah, he can talk out loud to you or anyone, but my… technopathy… makes it so I can communicate with him using my thoughts.”

Steve blinked, looking a bit overwhelmed. “I- oh, wow. I didn’t… I mean I guess I just thought about that in terms of the lights and your suit. I didn’t really think about…”

Tony nodded, “I get it.”

A beat.

Steve shook his head. “You weren’t breathing when we got to you,” he murmured looking down.

“I just thought I passed out.”

Steve shook his head, looking vaguely ill and rather pale. Tony grabs Steve’s hand and pressed his fingertips to the pulse in his neck. Steve blinked down at Tony.

“I’m okay. See.”

Steve took a deep breath and then released it, listening to the steady thrum of Tony’s pulse. It was a little fast and there was the faint hum of something else that carried with it. Steve frowned but resolved to ask about it later.

“Are you, Tony? I mean, you… are you okay?” his voice softens to almost nothing at the end.

Tony hesitates and Steve cups his uninjured cheek. Tony swallows before shrugging, “Physically. Yeah, I’m fine. Suit isn’t meant to withstand going to space. It held against the vacuum but my oxygen is filtered in from outside. So it was mostly the lack of oxygen that did me in. I was only without for a little over a minute, including when I was back on earth and not breathing. Brain damage is only a thing after-”

“Tony,” Steve cuts him off, “As much as it is a relief to know that you are physically alright, that isn't what I was asking.”

Tony sighs and turns in Steve’s arms so he can press his face against his shoulder. “Every time I close my eyes, I’m back there.”

Steve’s arms tighten around the boy and he pressed his face against his son’s hair. “Tony…” he crooned quietly.

Tony lifts his head, “You didn’t see it. None of you did but, Dad, there was an army. A fleet. There were so many of them...”

Steve pauses to look at the boy, mouth turning down, “The nuke-”

“Definitely put a dent in their numbers but it wasn't nearly enough. What if they come back?” returns Tony.

Steve looks worried at the thought.

Tony continues, “And I’m not entirely convinced it was Loki spear-heading that thing either. I mean, he bottle-necked the invasion and put it right over my tower. He purposely pissed us all off enough to fight him. He said ‘that was the plan,’ but that didn’t strike me as bravado. I… his eyes were blue when we confronted him at the tower but when Thor took him in-”

“They were green.” Steve agreed, looking bewildered. The soldier looked like he was reevaluating the situation. “Tony, why didn’t you say-”

“I didn’t know if I would be believed. I’m a kid, I’m not always taken seriously and I needed some time to really look at all the facts, but I don’t think Loki was completely in control, Dad. He’s supposed to be smart, but if he’s so smart…”

“Why would he bottleneck an invading force and set it right over an Avenger’s home?”

Tony nodded, “Exactly, Dad.  _ That’s _ not really a way to lead an invading force. If it were  _ me _ , I would have kept it quiet. Avoid all of us as much as possible. Would have gone the stealth route, which seems more like Loki’s thing anyway. Then  _ I _ would have led the army in on an unsuspecting population, where no one, not even the Avengers or SHIELD would have suspected it.  _ I  _ would have taken out the military first or- ”

Steve nodded. “No, I get it Tony. I would have done it differently as well. It’s worth looking into,” he agreed. The soldier ran his fingers through his son's hair, curling a lock around a finger. Silence fell again, both heroes lost in thought.

“I think you’ve called me  _ Dad _ like ten times in a row without your life being in danger,” Steve mused after a few moments. He glanced down at his son. 

Tony would have been embarrassed but he could see the affection written plainly across this man’s face and the warmth in those eyes. He could still vividly hear his father saying he loved him. So he grinned, “Well, I did say I would work on it.”

Steve’s smile went bittersweet and crooked, “I remember.”

They both fall quiet again for a moment. Steve lifts a hand and rests it on the blue glow of Tony’s chest, feeling the slightly warm metal and the subtle vibration of it beneath his fingertips.

“Tell me about this."

* * *

Steve wanted to hit something. 

He really wanted to personally hit the bastards who had kidnapped and tortured both his son and mate. The ones who were personally responsible for the invasive mechanism embedded in his son’s chest and who were definitely still giving the boy nightmares based on the way he was shaking in his arms as he told his tale.

They were dead though. Tony and Howard had blown them all to hell. He was pleased with the knowledge that they were dead but it didn’t soothe his need to hurt the ones who had tried to take his little family away from him before he’d ever known it.

Once Steve had got Tony started, the kid just kept going. Steve was told all about Afghanistan and how the suits were made; about Obediah Stane’s betrayal; about the palladium poisoning incident and Howard and Tony becoming Avengers.

Most of these stories just egged on his building blood-lust, but Steve was enthralled to learn about the suits of armor. He loved seeing the smile that touched his son’s lips as Tony animatedly spoke of Howard and he protecting New York in the marvels of engineering they had built together.

Tony’s eyes lit up as he told Steve of how he and Howard had defeated some villain with their own weapon and Steve was laughing along with him, just happy to see Tony smiling, when Tony’s phone rang.

Tony paused before grabbing the phone from his pocket. Steve stared at the small device in Tony’s hands, awed by how the technology was so small. “It’s my Aunt Pepper. I have to take this,” he informed before answering the phone.

Steve could actually hear both sides of the conversation courtesy of his increased hearing. The woman, Tony’s aunt, railed into the boy for a solid five minutes for everything from sneaking out of his friend’s apartment to flying the nuke through the portal (apparently that was all over the news). Tony tried to get a word in edgewise but the woman wasn’t having any of it. She reminded him of Peggy Carter.

When Tony was finally allowed to speak, he brought Pepper in on Steve’s status as alive and where they were now. It seemed for a long moment the woman wasn’t going to believe Tony. The boy reassured her over and over again that Steve knew things no one but Howard and Tony could know. There was a long silence before Pepper merely said, “Put him on the phone.”

Tony hesitated. Steve held out his hand. The boy handed the device over and Steve pressed it to his ear.

“Miss Pepper?”

“Rogers. How are you alive?”

So Steve told her. With Tony’s encouraging smile he told her about the fake hospital room and SHIELD and Fury and meeting Tony. When he was done, the woman sounded less skeptical and more ready to bring war to Director Fury’s doorstep. Steve was more than willing to let her, as well as aid and abed wherever he could.

“Rogers,” The woman broke in after a moment of silence.

“Ma’am.”

“You listen and you listen well,” her voice had taken on a commanding note. “I’m willing to believe this for two reasons. One, Tony is way too smart to be fooled by any sort of impostor and two, Howard has been insisting you were still alive since before I was born. But if I find out that you lied or hurt them in any way,” her voice darkened, “I will destroy you.”

Steve believed her. 

“Yes, ma’am.”

Tony snorted, apparently finding something funny about the look on his face.

“I’m glad we have an understanding. Now, I’m going to help.” her voice returned to it’s even tone. “I’m going to go have a very  _ nice _ chat with the director and see about getting your whole status as dead overturned as well as getting you some identification. I’ll even handle Mrs. Rhodes. You,” her voice turned deadly once more, “Will keep my nephew safe and sound. We have an understanding?”

“Yes, ma’am.”

“Good. Now where are you two going to stay?”

“Tony mentioned a summer home or a hotel.”

Pepper hummed, “I would go for the hotel. Stay in New York while I try to handle all of this. I would recommend staying out of the public eye as much as you can till I clear your whole identity issue.” She paused before lowering her voice, “I assume you have intentions on going looking for Howard.”

Steve didn’t dare lie to her, “We do.”

She sighed,“I am to be informed if Tony suits up again, if you get any information regarding Howard’s location, or if the two of you plan to leave New York City. Understand?” she hedges, her voice still commandeering.

“Yes, ma’am.”

“Good. Welcome back to the land of the living, Captain Rogers.” her voice sounds sincere. “Take care of my Tony.”

“I will.”

The line goes dead and Steve blinks at the phone.

Tony breaks into peals of laughter. Steve feels his lips quirk in amusement. It’s been a bit since he was outmaneuvered by a lady. He missed it.

“Is she in anyway related to Peggy Carter?”

Tony pauses and grins breathlessly, “Don’t believe so.”

“Huh.”

That starts Tony going again, this time, Steve joins him.

* * *

When Tony opened his eyes again, it was to Steve’s quiet voice as he was gently picked up off the motorcycle. Tony blinked, staring up at his father and then glancing confusedly around at the mostly empty parking garage.

“Back with me, sweetheart?” The soothing voice of the man caught his attention. Tony blinked up at his father. Had he fallen asleep?

The soldier had Tony cradled close to his chest as he carried the boy bridal style. Steve was smiling affectionately down at him even as he left the bike in the parking garage he’d driven into. The look on the man’s face was ridiculously fond and Tony felt like his heart was in his throat. 

“You fell asleep.” His father murmured. Tony blushed. Steve smiled at him, “Found us an open hotel,” he informed as he carried the boy toward the entrance. Tony shifted in Steve’s arms, feeling embarrassed.

“I can walk,” insisted the boy. Steve paused to carefully set his son on his feet, though he still kept an arm slung over the teen’s shoulders.The two of them headed for the hotel entrance, Tony listing sleepily into his father’s side.

The teen paid for the hotel with his credit card, fortunately enough the single staff attending the desk looked a bit more preoccupied with his phone than anything. Though Tony was sure that it had something to do with the day’s events considering the exhausted look the man was wearing.

Steve steered them for the elevator and Tony worked the buttons. He allowed the man to lead them to the room after they stepped off. Steve looked confused by the keycard, so Tony took it and carefully slotted it into the door before pushing it open. Steve looked around the room, a little curious, but the soldier wasn’t fooling anyone. He looked as exhausted as Tony. 

There were no words. They didn’t even  _ discuss _ the second bed as that was much too great a distance to be seperated after all they had endured today. 

For the first time in his life, Tony fell asleep in his father’s arms.


	7. Life As We Knew It

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “I know you miss your home, Tony. Don’t tell me you don’t miss your lab?”
> 
> Tony evades his gaze, guiltily. His father was right. He did want to go home. He missed his lab almost as much as he missed his mother.
> 
> “I’ll be right there with you, Tony. I promised you. Always. Remember?” Steve brushed his fingers over Tony’s cheek.
> 
> Tony evades his gaze.
> 
> “Tony?” questioned the soldier, his eyes narrowed with concern.
> 
> Tony doesn’t answer.
> 
> “Sweetheart. I don’t know what’s going on in your head, but I swear to you I mean what I’m saying. Always, Tony. I promise.” Steve’s voice is emphatic and so sincere that Tony almost believes him.
> 
> “What if Mom doesn’t-” Tony cuts himself off as his voice breaks before trying again, “What if we never find Mom?”

It was infuriating.

Tony had warned Steve and yet the super soldier had held out hope.

He had had hoped that somehow, with Steve and Tony both working together, they could find Howard. The thing was, Tony had been searching and doing everything he possibly could, to find Howard. The thirteen year old was a genius for crying out loud. Plus, with Tony’s neat little ability to hack without even the need to touch anything, Tony was literally unrivaled.

But there was nothing to find. 

Tony had scoured the earth it seemed. He had searched and hacked and dug through information till his head swam with it all, but there was absolutely nothing. 

Steve had just sort of hoped that maybe he could help. 

That perhaps he would think of something Tony hadn’t thought of. That maybe he would have some idea. That perhaps he could be of some use. But here, Steve felt useless.

This was not his caveat. This was distinctly the type of thing that Howard was good at and, apparently, Tony as well. Intel was a Stark thing. Howard hadn’t just handled the commandos and Steve’s gear. He had also sifted through intelligence. He had fed Steve much needed info through a radio unit on the field and had attended every briefing before the group had headed out on a mission. 

When whoever was running the briefing had finished, Howard had always taken Steve to the side and told him everything the ‘incompetent’ officers had neglected to share. 

Steve didn’t think they were incompetent but Howard often begged to differ.

The omega had been very insistent on making sure Steve had every possible advantage on any operation. Howard had often overworked himself to obtain those advantages, much to his soulmate’s dismay. 

It wasn’t lost on him that they could have probably used the man to find himself. Not that Tony wasn’t great. He was. The boy was brilliant and fantastic just like Howard. But Howard would have been useful with this part, where Steve was just… not.

This wasn’t his wheelhouse and Steve was despairing over how helpless he felt.

It had been two long grueling weeks since Steve and Tony had been united, which meant Howard had now been missing for forty-two days. 

Forty-two days.

Steve was frantic and antsy. 

His mate was out there, somewhere, and Steve could do nothing to bring him home. He was out there, probably hurt and upset, and Steve couldn’t fix it. 

God, he hoped he was only hurt.

The other conclusion he just couldn’t bear thinking about.

They were still in the hotel. The same one Steve had brought a sleeping Tony too. The tower was being fixed according to Tony. Construction had started a week ago. It wouldn’t actually have even started had Steve not pushed for it. Tony seemed to be under the delusion that his home was low on the list of priorities when it came to patching up New York, but Steve disagreed. 

The boy had already been without his mother and had to stay elsewhere. The boy had _died_ and nearly stayed dead for this city. Steve was pretty damn sure it could thank him but letting one measly construction crew repair his home instead of work on the bank on third street.

Steve may have quietly contacted Pepper to assure this happened. The woman had silently agreed and the construction crew was working on Tony’s tower not even three hours later.

Steve once again decided not to get on the woman’s bad side if he could help it.

She was still working on getting Steve his identity and the whole not-being-dead issue, so Tony and he were strongly restricted on what they could and couldn’t do. Tony was sort of high profile and while Steve couldn’t be immediately recognized as the original Captain America, or even the current one without the suit, Tony was definitely recognizable and it would have raised questions if Steve was seen with the boy out and about.

So they were largely restricted to the hotel considering Pepper had asked them not to leave New York for the time being. At first, it hadn’t been too bad. Steve and Tony had a lot to catch up on and that’s just what they had done. They had spent the first five days simply ordering room service and talking. They talked and talked and talked. 

While it had definitely brought them closer and made them more secure in their relationship, not all of that could be forced. 

Yes, now he knew the trivial things like Tony’s likes and dislikes. He knew stories of Tony’s short time in elementary and high school. He knew probably more than he needed to about his best friend, Rhodey. The boy babbled at length about technology and the likes of which Steve had no hope of understanding but had grinned and nodded through, merely soothed and comforted by the passionate cadence.

Tony knew little anecdotes of Steve’s childhood from the man himself instead of Howard’s memory. The boy knew what type of pizza Steve preferred and that he had a severe distaste for the gore in movies, despite having seen much worse in his life. Actually, probably because he had seen much worse in real life. His son knew probably more than he needed to about Steve’s best friend, Bucky. Despite the pain that came with losing him, Steve found talking of him helped him deal with that ache as well. 

Yes, they knew more than they ever had about each other, but there was so much that came with time they couldn’t force. So after another seven days of room service and talking till there wasn’t much more they offer the other in terms of words, they had become a little stir crazy. There was only so much bad day time tv and board games the two could deal with. Only so many movies and future lessons the two could endure before the need to not be trapped in a small hotel room overwhelmed them.

Which is why, when the tower had been declared once again inhabitable after just shy of two weeks living in a hotel, Steve thought Tony would have been thrilled.

Instead, the boy had offered him a smile that didn’t meet his eyes after Pepper had called to tell them. When Steve had quietly queried what was wrong, Tony had acted as if nothing was amiss. Steve had frowned but had ultimately resolved to give the boy a bit of space to work out his feelings and tell him when he was ready. 

When Steve had returned from his turn in the shower, Tony had disappeared.

* * *

This was so stupid.

Tony feels like an idiot, sitting on the roof with the wind whipping his hair feeling numb and exhausted and terrified. It was borderline idiotic how the thought of returning home sent him into a state of panic so strong it had sent him running.

Of course, his father couldn’t know that.

Sure, if Tony had a panic attack over coming face to face with a parent he had long thought dead or, you know, _dying_ , that was one thing. But feeling breathless and anxious and too big for his skin over the thought of returning to his own home was ridiculous.

Steve was _proud_ of Tony. He was _happy_ to call the boy in the Iron Patriot armor his son. Hell, he even said he _loved_ him.

Tony had never mentioned how he was waiting for the other shoe to drop.

Tony had never said he felt a sense of dread when he thought too far into the future.

Sure, in this little bubble of a hotel room, away from the world and bitter reality, Steve wanted him. But how long would that last when Tony had another, not warranted, panic attack? Would the man still be _proud_ of him when Tony woke up crying from night terrors that sent him into such a dissociative state that he had actually hurt his own mother? Would Steve still _love_ him after Tony lashed out with sharp words and cruel insults when the boy felt cornered or defensive?

Would his father still _want_ Tony as his son when Tony inevitably fucked everything up, like he always did?

Sure, Howard loved him. His mother would do anything for him, but Howard had been around his entire life. He knew Tony before all those little quirks had developed. Had reassured Tony time and time again that he loved him because of and in spite of them. Howard had given the boy everything he could ever want. He’d been Tony’s everything for as long as the boy could remember and probably before so.

And Tony couldn’t save him. 

If Howard was still here and Tony had been the one kidnapped, the man would have moved heaven and earth to come for him. In fact, Howard Stark _had_ done so multiple times before. Sure, Tony had frequently already been in the middle of saving himself from a kidnapping, but Howard had _always_ come for him.

Now Howard needed Tony to do the saving and the boy had _failed_ him.

Tony had tried every trick he knew to locate his mother. He’d hacked every system he could, tapped into street cameras and run facial recognition software on all corners of the globe. Tony was a _Stark_ dammit. He had an IQ that even surpassed his mother’s. He was Captain America’s son. He should be able to save his own mother, goddammit!

But Tony had failed him.

What if Tony was too late? What if Howard was already-

He was hyperventilating, his skin felt numb and there were cold tear tracks running down his face, drying stickily where they laid. He was curled into a ball, knees tucked to his chest as he stared up at the darkened sky. 

How long before his father realized what a _failure_ Tony was and left him too?

Tony was so afraid of being alone.

Distantly, he was aware of the sound of a door being slammed open. Tony didn’t open his eyes, still shaking like a leaf and trying for the life of him to remember how to breathe. 

“Oh, Tony…” his father’s voice crooned closer than the boy expected. Tony jumped when strong arms were wrapped around him and he was heaved against a chest. The man carried him easily away from the edge of the roof and closer to the little building that held the staircase and door that led onto the roof. 

The man slowly lowered the both of them to the ground, keeping Tony huddled close to his chest in his lap. He rocked Tony wordlessly, keeping Tony’s small hand pressed against the pulse in his neck. God, it was sad how quickly this was becoming routine. 

They remained there for what felt like a small eternity. Steve didn’t press, merely held the boy and comforted silently. Tony’s shaking slowly abated and his breathing eventually evened out. Still, they sat in silence.

“You don’t want to go home.” murmured Steve.

Tony swallowed.

“Have you been there at all since Howard went missing?”

The boy shook his head.

This seemed to be answer enough for the blond. He merely held his son tighter, tucking the child’s head under his chin. He rubbed his chin there for a moment and Tony nearly laughed.

The man just chinned him.

Tony huffed breathlessly, tempted to whine that he wasn’t a baby, like he did to his mother whenever Howard had indulged in the instinct. He pressed his nose to his father's neck, running the line of it against the scent gland there. Steve sighed and rubbed Tony’s back. 

“Sweetheart, you know you can talk to me, right? I’m your father. I’m gonna always be in your corner. If you don’t want to talk, I understand, but I’ll always be here if you do. Could you- could you maybe tell me where you’re going next time you pull a vanishing act though? I think I traumatized the hotel staff.” Steve’s voice is fairly sheepish toward the end and Tony’s too curious not to look up.

He raised a brow. His voice was hoarse from tears when he asked, “What did you do?”

Steve looked away, ears turning red. 

“This hotel’s never gonna let us come back, is it?”

Steve’s embarrassed smile is enough of an answer for Tony.

The boy sighed, “Guess we don’t have much of a choice on the not going home thing.”

Steve brushed his fingers through the boy's hair, “To be fair, we couldn’t very well stay here much longer anyway, Tony. Don’t you have classes?”

“I start next semester. Mom disappeared before I finished enrolling. Didn’t think it would be a good idea to start then.”

Steve nodded, looking a little relieved. “I know you miss your home, Tony. Don’t tell me you don’t miss your lab?”

Tony evades his gaze, guiltily. His father was right. He did want to go home. He missed his lab almost as much as he missed his mother.

“I’ll be right there with you, Tony. I promised you. _Always_. Remember?” Steve brushed his fingers over Tony’s cheek.

Tony evades his gaze.

“Tony?” questioned the soldier, his eyes narrowed with concern.

Tony doesn’t answer.

“Sweetheart. I don’t know what’s going on in your head, but I swear to you I mean what I’m saying. _Always_ , Tony. I promise.” Steve’s voice is emphatic and so sincere that Tony almost believes him.

“What if Mom doesn’t-” Tony cuts himself off as his voice breaks before trying again, “What if we never find Mom?”

Steve stiffens. “Tony,” he lifts the boy's chin. “We’re gonna find him.”

Tony shakes his head, “But what if-”

Steve cuts him off, “We will. I mean, my incredibly brilliant son can do _anything_ and I’m no slouch either. We’ll find him, kiddo.”

Instead of the words being encouraging, they settled like sour milk in Tony’s stomach.

But what if he couldn’t?

His father wanted the boy who could do _anything_.

Not the boy who _failed_.

* * *

The next morning, after a relatively subdued evening, the duo returned to Stark Tower. Tony seemed fairly withdrawn, but Steve blamed it on the fact that Tony was missing his mother.

Howard had been there for Tony his whole life, Steve had only been around for two measly weeks. It’s not like it was much of a contest and Steve knew he shouldn’t make it one but he still sorely felt like he wasn’t measuring up.

A very quiet part of Steve’s head occasionally liked to ponder if Tony would even need or want Steve when they inevitably found Howard. It’s not like the boy would need him anymore. 

Steve knew he was being stupid. This wasn’t a contest and Tony had, on more than one occasion, been quite clear on how much he desired Steve to be a part of his life. Steve was just being insecure. 

Probably didn’t help that Steve was still dealing with everything that came with waking up sixty years into the future and finding everyone he ever cared for dead or moved on. 

What if Howard had moved on too?

He’d managed for so long without Steve, what if his mate had no desire for him to be back in his life?

Steve shook his head to clear it of the depressing thoughts as he stepped off the elevator. Those kinds of thoughts were pointless. First of all, he’d been repeatedly told by multiple sources that Howard had never stopped looking for him. Second of all, well- he couldn’t bear to consider his second point.

Because he’d promised Tony they would find Howard.

Of that Steve was sure. 

Steve just wasn’t sure if the man would still be alive or whole when they did.

He pushed all of those morbid thoughts away to give his son the undivided attention he deserved. The boy was wearing a brave smile as he led Steve into what was the Stark’s living room. Tony’s eyes were closed off but he was putting on a fairly decent act.

Steve indulged him in the false happiness, not wanting to return the boy’s thoughts to his missing mother by inquiring after the act. Instead, he looked around in wonder.

The living room was done up in warm colors. The walls were an inviting light brown interspersed by metal tiled accent walls here and there. The couches were an off white and surrounded a gas fireplace, above which hung a large TV surrounded by quite a bit of technology. The walls were covered in tasteful art. Steve forced himself not to linger on the photos decorating the walls as well. 

Most of them featured Howard and Steve had no idea how Tony would react if Steve brought them up.

Behind the living room and dividing it from the kitchen was a dining table. It was made of dark wood and bare, except for a child’s hand painted vase in the middle. Beyond that was a state of the art kitchen with grey kitchen cabinets and white countertops that waterfalled at the sides to the floor. 

There was a small island where barstools sat at. On top were a few assorted items, a picture frame which Steve could see featured Tony and a dark skinned boy Steve was willing to bet was Rhodey, an empty bowl, some scattered papers, and some sort of container atop a stand with levels.

Tony dragged him to the right where there was a mini hallway that held a small immaculate bathroom that looked like it was mostly for show and another door that opened to what Tony said was a spare bedroom. The boy mentioned that occasionally, Pepper or Fury used it but that it wasn’t often.

After that, the boy led him back toward the living room and to a metal stairway. The stairs led to a lofted floor that was bordered by a similar black metal fence that ran up the stairs as a railing. This floor was mainly a hallway with three metallic doors. There was an accent table up here, and a bookcase with picture frames and metal gadgets Steve didn’t recognize. Steve followed Tony and the child bypassed one door for the one on the far right. 

Tony opened it to reveal a similar looking room. This was the room they had confronted Loki in. 

“My quarters.” Tony explained, walking into the small living space. This room was a metallic offwhite. The sectional was a warm black and appeared to be maybe suede. There was a glass coffee table in front of which laid a discarded tablet along with some textbooks and a few metal gadgets. The couch faces a TV sitting on top of an entertainment center with glass doors. In which, the right and left sides were filled with movie cases and such. Some more technology takes up the three shelves in the middle.

To the far right of the room is a cluttered desk/bookshelf combo. The bookshelf is filled with books and the like while the desk holds a very fancy looking computer. A headset lays discarded on one side while some papers litter the breadth of it.

The left side of the room has another table that looks like some sort of work tables. There’s wiring, metal, and assorted pieces of technology laying across it’s top. It’s nestles against the side of the curved staircase that leads in from the suit platform Tony had used previously. There’s another set of doors to the balcony near the sectional.

The walls have photos too, but they’re intersperse with certificates of Tony’s (a high school diploma, some sort of scholarship award letter, his MIT acceptance letter, and two other certificates that Steve can’t read from where he’s standing), two newspaper cutouts (one dictating SI shutting down weapons manufacturing and the other has a colored photo of the Iron Man and Iron Patriot suits boasting it’s cover page), and a single Captain America poster.

Steve raises a brow at Tony, the teen merely blushes and offers no comment. 

There’s a tiny kitchen with a mini fridge, single counter, small sink, microwave, and a hotplate. It’s all metallic in style and is fairly clean considering they belong to a teenage boy.

The whole of this room has it’s right wall made of glass looking onto the large shared balcony that Steve had seen previously, including the raised platform that was meant to divest Tony of his suit. Steve could see the balcony stretching beyond the length of the room and another raised platform on the opposite side. Presumably outside Howard’s room and meant for his mate to divest his own suit. The balcony had a bit of furniture outside, a few chairs and a small couch with some tables.

There was some sort of fabric sculpture thing with rope hanging off bits of it and a teeny hammock between two posts. Steve almost asked about it but he had more on his mind. 

Tony raised a brow.

“Where do you sleep?” asked Steve, confused.

Tony indicated to the only door, metallic looking as well. Steve took a step in the direction of it, “May I?”

“Promise not to make fun of me?” bargained the boy, already stepping in the direction of the referenced door.

Steve narrowed his gaze, confused, but nodded in agreement and Tony opened the door.

The room was painted silver and had no windows, but there were a multitude of skylights set into the ceiling. The center of the room had a large four poster bed in a dark wood with a translucent silver canopy hanging from the frame. The bedding was dark blue and there were drawers set into the bottom.

There were two end tables of the same wood with futuristic lamps sitting on them. A single wide dresser against one wall and another desk with a laptop sitting against the other, both in the matching wood. Two metallic doors were set into the right wall. A TV hung on the wall above a very tall elaborate set of cabinets and shelving across from the bed, though it was fairly far from it. There were a few beanbags in between them.

None of this was tease worthy in itself and Steve was confused till he noticed the walls. They had photos as well but there were three large Captain America posters. A set of built in shelving had rows and rows of comics beneath a display of familiar looking action figures.

Steve walked toward them. As he suspected, they were Captain America ones. Steve found each commando, two Bucky ones and three Captain America ones. On the far end, as if recently added, was an Iron Man and Iron Patriot figure.The comics were mostly more of the same, but there were quite a few other superheroes. 

Tony looked fairly sheepish, sitting at the end of his bed watching Steve. He pointed to the two doors and in an uneven tone muttered, “Bathroom and closet.”

Steve grinned at him, “I like your room.”

Tony snorted.

“You’re spoiled rotten but I didn’t really expect any less.”

Tony’s smile is crooked.

“What are the other rooms on this floor?” asked Steve.

Tony raised a brow, “Another spare and Mom’s?”

 _Oh_. 

Tony smiled at him, “You can go see. After all, it’s where you’ll be sleeping. I’ll wait here.”

Steve rubbed the back of his neck, “I could use the spare.”

Tony shook his head, his smile small, “No, Dad. It’s fine. Mom would want you to stay there. Plus, I’m fairly sure some of your stuff from before is in there. The rest is in storage. We could go get it later. Mom kept everything. So…”

Steve hesitated.

“Go.” Tony insisted.

Steve went. Part of him wished he hadn’t and part of him was glad he did.

The room smelled of Howard. The walls were a dark red with rich wooden crown molding. There was a small living area with warm brown couches that looked exceedingly soft. A small coffee table and entertainment center were a light wood. There were two work tables and a discarded desk cluttered with paperwork and books. A bookshelf held most of Steve’s own books he’d once collected, interspersed with yellowed sketch pads that the soldier knew well. A small kitchen was placed against the back right wall, facing the glass wall that led onto the balcony. The kitchen was identical to Tony’s. There was a bar, it matched the countertop of the kitchen and was placed against the windowed wall. The same staircase Tony’s rooms had, descended from the suit platform entrance. There was a second entrance closer to the couches.

The room looked untouched. Like Howard had just left it. There was a jacket thrown haphazardly across the couch and a gold tie hung off the desk. Little touches here and there made it known that no one had come in here since Howard had disappeared. Unlike all the other rooms that smelled of conflicting scents, most-likely construction workers and cleaners, this room only held Howard’s scent.

This room also had a metallic door. 

Steve hesitated, feeling conflicted. Before he could overthink it, Steve pushed open the door. 

It was an immediate gut punch to the stomach. This room smelled even more of Howard. There was a large California king bed with a golden wood head and footboard. It’s bedding was red and plush with many pillows. A wide ottoman at the base of the bed was also the same red, though the wood of its frame was dark. 

Matching end tables held older styled gas lamps. Steve was pretty sure they were authentic.

There were two bookshelves, stuffed full of well-loved paperbacks and hardcovers. More than a few were science journals and the like but Steve’s own books were there, mixed in with some simple fiction ones. 

The was a television mounted on the wall with a shelf below it holding some technology. There was another desk and this room also had skylights.

This room too looked as if Howard had just stepped out of it.

None of this was what had stopped Steve.

There were pictures on the walls, old black and white photos mixed in with full color ones. Most of them were full color and featured Howard and Tony. A few had other people in with Howard. The black and whites were of the Commandos. Of Steve. The picture strip they had gotten at a fair, just before Steve had gone after Red Skull had been blown up and separated into individual photos. It made something in Steve’s chest ache. Like he was having an asthma attack despite not having one in years.

Steve’s old brown leather jacket was thrown over the end of the bed. 

He sucked in air, head spinning from vertigo and grief that hit him like a tidal wave. The soldier stumbled for the bed and sank onto it, feeling as though his very bones screamed out in pain. His chest constricted and he was having trouble breathing.

Steve cried.

For Bucky, the best friend he couldn't save.

For Howard, the mate he left behind.

For Tony, the child he'd always wanted.

Steve sobbed for sixty years he'd lost. For the life he'd promised Howard and failed to deliver. For a mate he might never get to see again. For a child who had only met his father thirteen years into his life. For everything he'd lost. For precious time. 

Steve sat down and wept for the life he'd never got to live.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And you thought you were gonna get a Steve and Tony who know how to communicate...
> 
> This is still the MCU after all. Wouldn't be Marvel if everyone simply talked to each other.
> 
> And I mean, problems just don't go away because family.


	8. Broken Together

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Awareness slipped back into Tony slowly, as he blinked open his eyes in the darkness of the bedroom. It was still very late, his skylights still painted a darkened sky as he stared up at them from the relative safety of his bed. 
> 
> At first, he thought he had a nightmare, but he didn’t feel like he had. His breathing came steady and he wasn’t shaking. He frowned when what had woken him chimed in again.
> 
> “Young sir?”
> 
> Tony blinked, turning over to find the camera fixed in his room with his eyes. He raised a brow at it, “JARVIS? What’s up, buddy? What time is it?”
> 
> “The time is two thirty-eight a.m., young sir. I’m terribly sorry to have woken you, but I believe Master Rogers is in distress.”
> 
> Tony was awake instantly, flinging the blankets from his body in his hurry to tumble from the bed. “Distress? What kind of distress?”

It took Steve longer than he wished for him to calm down. 

He made sure to wash his face in the large bathroom. The room was a bit cluttered and disorderly. There were clothes hanging from the edge of a small laundry basket to the left and personal products were clustered chaotically on the double vanity. There was a large soaker tub in one corner and a fancy built in shower stall of sleek tile in the other. 

Steve dried his face, studied himself in the mirror until he was presentable, and then headed back out of Howard’s set of rooms. Tony was standing outside the door across the hall, leaning casually against the metal railing behind him.

“You okay?” asked the boy immediately, a worried frown turning down his lips.

Steve nodded, not trusting himself to talk.

The kid looked him over with narrowed eyes for a long time. Steve shifted beneath the scrutiny until the boy gave him a soft look. It said a lot without words. It said Tony knew Steve wasn’t unaffected and that the boy was here if he needed anything.

Steve would never burden the boy with his demons when he already had so many of his own.

Tony pasted on a smile and reached for his wrist, “Come on, we’re not done with the tour just yet.”

Steve frowned in confusion as the child led him back to Tony’s rooms. He approached a blank wall toward the middle of the living area that was made of smooth metal planes. He placed a hand against it and the planes parted, revealing a staircase.

Steve blinked. “Holy shit.”

Tony broke into surprised laughter. “Aren’t you supposed to be Captain America, paragon of virtue or something?”

Steve offered him a smirk, feeling lighter by the teasing. He raised a brow, “I’m also Steve Rogers, a soldier born and raised in Brooklyn.”

Tony grinned wolfishly, “Don’t let all of your adoring fans catch you cursing like a sailor. In front of your own child! Really?” Tony clutched at imaginary pearls.

Steve actually felt a little embarrassed until Tony snorted, “Oh, come on, Dad. I was teasing. Mom’s way worse than you. Pretty sure my first words were a curse.”

Steve paused. “Tell me you're joking.”

“Uh….” Tony’s smile slipped from his face as he rubbed the back of his neck.

Steve raised a brow.

Tony sighed. “So apparently, Mom took me to some board meeting because I was teething and generally miserable and wouldn’t let go of his arm. So he was dealing with their concerns and I was quietly munching on some teething ring or something. I was like six months old and Mom was a little overwhelmed, carrying me around the room. Some board member was asking a bunch of really ridiculous questions and generally making the meeting go on longer than it had to. Mom muttered something under his breath and I repeated it. Loudly. To the whole board. With the biggest most innocent smile on my face.”

Steve tipped his head in question, “Which was?”

Tony’s lips tugged into a reluctant smile, “ _Fucking idiot._ ”

Steve snorted and Tony chuckled before both of them descended into helpless laughter. It took them both a minute to calm down but when they did, Steve was grinning. 

He felt world’s better than before. He spared Tony a secret soft smile and Tony seemed to get the message because he winked before indicating to the stairwell.

“Step into my lair?”

Steve raised a brow, “You’re lair?”

“My workshop.”

_Oh._

Steve eagerly descended the stairs with Tony behind him. The stairwell went down a bit before turning right and ending at a wall. Tony leaned passed him to press his palm to a metal plane and they parted once more.

Tony’s workshop was like something from a science fiction novel. There were benches and lab tables filled with tech that Steve couldn’t hope of understanding. It was all metal and glass, approximately fifty feet in width and maybe twenty or so in length. It was cluttered with tools and machinery. The walls that spanned the side were made of some sort of reinforced glass, one peering outside to the city below and the other peering into a hallway of some sort where Steve could see the outline of an elevator and another wall that appeared to be some sort of shaded glass.

Tony waved a hand and blue light lit up around the room, displaying a litany of translucent outlines. Tony mentioned that they were holograms and they were like a computer screen except interactive. He lifted Steve’s hand to touch one and it zoomed in to display the width of a blueprint for something.

“Holy shit!” Steve exclaimed, looking around the whole of the workshop in wonder. “It’s like out of some sci-fi film but better!”

Tony grinned, seemingly enjoying Steve’s excitement. The older man turned to face Tony, walking toward him he asked, “Did Howard ever manage that flying car?”

Tony snorted. “He told me about that. No, I’m afraid that’s still a work in progress. Something about the calibration and weight.”

Before Steve could reply, some sort of robotic arm whirred from over on a large table. Around it was a spread of tools and gadgets, as if it were being worked on. Steve frowned, “What’s that?”

Tony rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly, “Something I’m working on. It’s supposed to help me in here. A robot of sorts.”

Steve approached it and the arm spun a bit, in greeting. Steve let out a laugh of surprise. “Wow.” he blinked before glancing at Tony. “You really are a genius.”

Tony raised a brow, a smile tipping crookedly, “As if there was ever any doubt.”

“Does Howard have a lab?”

Tony nodded silently, heading for the glass doors. He opened them, holding them for Steve and indicated to the shaded glass wall on the other side of the hallway. “That’s Mom’s.”

He pointed to the glass wall at the very end of the hallway about twenty feet away, “That’s our shared lab. We work on the suits together there.”

Steve glanced back at Tony where he was staring at the shaded glass with a closed off expression. Steve wearily decided not to comment.

  
  
  


* * *

Awareness slipped back into Tony slowly, as he blinked open his eyes in the darkness of the bedroom. It was still very late, his skylights still painted a darkened sky as he stared up at them from the relative safety of his bed. 

At first, he thought he had a nightmare, but he didn’t feel like he had. His breathing came steady and he wasn’t shaking. He frowned when what had woken him chimed in again.

“Young sir?”

Tony blinked, turning over to find the camera fixed in his room with his eyes. He raised a brow at it, “JARVIS? What’s up, buddy? What time is it?”

“The time is two thirty-eight a.m., young sir. I’m terribly sorry to have woken you, but I believe Master Rogers is in distress.”

Tony was awake instantly, flinging the blankets from his body in his hurry to tumble from the bed. “Distress? What kind of distress?”

Tony got to his feet, the soles of the bare skin cool against the marbled floor. He brushed some sleep-mussed hair from his eyes and yanked the waist of his pajama pants higher up, tightening the string of them tighter while he stumbled for the door of his room.

“I believe he is having a nightmare. He is displaying many of the symptoms you do, young sir, when you have one of your episodes.”

Tony nearly banged his foot on the door when he yanked it open. 

A nightmare? Steve was having a nightmare? That, according to JARVIS, seemed just as bad as Tony’s? What was he supposed to do? 

His mother often struggled to comfort him from the dreams that haunted most of his sleeping hours. It was rather infrequently that Tony could go the night without one. More recently, Tony had stopped but he had no idea how long that was going to last. 

He didn’t have much time to think as he approached the door that led to his mother’s rooms. Tony didn’t consider his own emotional turmoil as he pushed the door open. His feet led him to the bedroom door and it swung open silently.

His father was in the bed, tangled in blankets and thrashing disjointedly. He made a quiet cry just as Tony stepped toward the bed. The boy didn’t approach, remembering vividly what had happened the first time Howard had tried that.

It wouldn’t help Steve if he ended up hurting Tony, considering he was much stronger than the boy. Tony rounded the bed, staying a fair five feet away as he came up to the side. 

“Dad?” Tony raised his voice.

No response. His father’s hyperventilating breaths filled the room.

“Dad!” Tony shouted, scooping up a pillow from the ground and tossing it lightly at him.

Steve bolted up from the bed into a sitting position, hair a mess and eyes manic.

Tony took a half step forward. He raised his hands in a placating gesture while keeping his tone steady, “Dad.” Another half-step, “It’s Tony. Your son. The date is August 31st, 2009. The time is two thirty-eight a.m. You're in Stark Tower in New York. You're safe.”

Steve’s head snapped in Tony’s direction, wild eyes trained on the boy. Tony kept his hands raised in the air, open and surrendering. Steve’s blue eyes slowly cleared before he croaked, “Tony?”

Tony nodded slowly, “It’s me. You had a nightmare. Are you awake?”

A slow nod.

“Can I come over there?” Tony was careful to keep his voice even and soft. The super soldier blinked at him before nodding again slowly.

Tony very slowly closed the distance to the bed. He climbed up, careful to keep his movements obvious to the distressed soldier. Then he slowly tugged the man against him, wrapping a slim arm around his torso and finding the man’s hand and tugging it so that his fingers pressed gently to Tony’s pulse point.

Tony had been in this position more times than he could count, but always in reverse. His mother had spent most of the last year with him like this, arms wrapped around him and Tony’s hand against his mother’s fluttering pulse. More recently, Steve had been the one holding him.

It was actually kind of nice to be the comforter for once instead of the comforted.

Tony rested his head on the man’s shoulder quietly, rubbing a hand down his father’s back. Steve’s breaths slowly evened out, though they remained sharp and jagged. He still was shivering in Tony’s arms, shaking like a leaf. A thought occurred to him.

“JARVIS,” Tony spoke softly yet his father still jumped, “Can you turn on the heat. Raise the temperature to 75℉.”

The heat kicked on. It took a few long minutes but as the temperature slowly raised, Steve stopped shivering. His teeth stopped chattering and his breathing returned to normal. 

“S-sorry for w-waking you,” murmured his father quietly, his voice hoarse.

“Don’t do that,” replied Tony just as quietly. His father glanced down at him and Tony raised his head. Keeping his tone even he continued, “Don’t do the guilt thing. I wouldn’t be here if I didn’t want to be.”

Steve looked like he was going to argue but Tony cut him off instead, “Would you have done the same?”

Steve frowned, confused. 

Tony smiled weakly, “If it was me with the nightmare, would you have done the same?”

Steve narrowed his eyes before replying emphatically, “Of course, I would.”

Tony nudged him, “Then don’t apologize. You’ll probably be on the other side of this soon enough.”

At Steve’s frown, Tony elaborated quietly, “I get them too.”

Silence. 

Steve hauled Tony into his lap, wrapping solid arms around him while pressing his face against the boy’s hair and inhaling deeply. Tony relaxed fully in the embrace and the two of them sat quietly.

“Afghanistan?” came the muffled question against Tony’s hair.

The boy nodded.

Steve made a soft sound, “I was wondering how you knew what to do so well. I’m fairly sure anyone else would have touched me. You didn’t.”

Tony swallowed thickly. The words came out before he knew what he was saying, “I threw Mom across the room.”

Steve stopped breathing.

“Two nights after we returned, I had my first one. He tried to wake me. Touched my shoulder. I threw him across the room. Broke his arm in two places. Didn’t realize who he was until Jarvis talked me down.” Tony confessed quietly.

Steve breathed in again but the sound was hitched. He tugged Tony tightly against him and nuzzled his hair. He chinned him again.

“Not your fault. I would have probably done the same.”

Tony nodded. “I figured. Hence why I asked before I came over here. Figured if you hurt me accidentally that wouldn’t help anything.”

Steve nodded but he had no words.

Tony quietly took the man’s wrist and turned it over, exposing the soft skin and scent gland on the inside. He quietly brought it to his mouth and bit down lightly.

Steve made a vulnerable noise and Tony looked up at him, mouth turned in a little smile. His father, without a word, reached for Tony’s arm. Tony watched him silently as he brought his wrist to his mouth and bit lightly down on Tony’s scent gland.

The boy’s breath hitched and he inhaled. Their scents became muddled with the scent of the other and Tony relaxed against the man’s chest. Steve nuzzled his hair, “Mine. My pup.” his voice was gravelly.

Tony flushed. Scent marking wasn’t done lightly. Of course the scent gland on one’s neck was meant for mates but the smaller one’s on the inner wrist were usually designed for families. Scent marking was a show of trust and belonging. There was no visible lasting mark like bond mates. Nothing like the slightly raised scar on his father’s neck that proclaimed him as bonded. Just a slight change of scent came with this ritualistic instinct but it was serious nevertheless.

Tony usually greeted Howard after many hours away by scent marking. It was common in parent-child relationships. 

This was just the first time he’d done it with his father.

He just wished his mother was here too.

  
  


* * *

Tony couldn’t sleep.

His mind just, for the life of him, would not shut off. The clock ticked over to 1:12 a.m. and Tony groaned before throwing the blankets off of his body and getting to his feet. He scrubbed at his face with angry fists and ran a careless hand through sleep-mussed hair. 

He didn’t even have a nightmare to blame for this bout of insomnia. He’d had three alone this week, all nearly back to back after his father’s first one. True to his word, the man had awoken Tony from a respectful distance during each episode, only to soothe him after he had completely returned to awareness. Then Steve took his turn and Tony had had one peaceful completely interrupted sleep the night before dealing with this.

Now he simply couldn’t sleep. He was tired physically but his brain was wide awake. So the boy resigned himself to a night without sleep by finding his slippers and a robe before descending the stairs to his lab.

Hours later, he paused from where he was bent over his mostly finished armor. The armor was nearly back up to top snuff and only needed some minor recalibration, which required Tony putting it on and going for a test drive. He would do that later. 

Right now, he sat back in the wheelie chair and rolled it nonchalantly over to one of the holograms. He began his daily attempt at trying to find something, anything, that would lead to his mother. He ran the facial recognition software for the thousandth time in the background while he patched in on radio signals.

He skipped through different stations and signals, occasionally pausing to listen in when he thought he heard something suspicious before moving on when it turned out to be nothing.

He adjusted parameters and hopped around a bit, skirting signals and frequencies till a transmission had him stopping cold.

“-still won’t agree to work on our little project. He’s quickly becoming not worth the trouble.”

Tony paused. “JARVIS…”

The AI boosted the volume of the transmission so it filled the lab with the sound of static. Tony waited with baited breath.

“Negative. Proceed as planned. We are working to take in the child. Might be a decent motivator for our  _ guest _ .”

Tony’s voice was hoarse when he instructed, “Everything you can get on this signal, JARVIS.”

The AI’s voice held a tremor of excitement to it when he replied, “Right away, young sir.”

The transmission broke in again, this time the previous voice returned, “Can’t you just use the kid instead. He’s just as capable. Stark’s already killed two of my-”

Tony tuned out the rest.

_ Stark. _

The idiot had said  _ Stark. _

“JARVIS-”

“I have a set of coordinates, sir.” returned the AI eagerly.

Tony was already running.

* * *

“Dad!”

Steve jumped a little, blinking awake into the darkened room. For a moment, he’d thought he had a nightmare again but his breath was even and Steve didn’t even feel the slightest chill. 

It had been nearly a week since Tony had woken him from the first one. He’d only had one more since, but the father had woken Tony himself from three. The boy had not had a single nightmare in the hotel they had shared, but being back in the tower seemed to have triggered something. Whether that meant staying here was causing Tony pain or if the boy was no longer bottling his emotions, Steve wasn’t sure.

Either way, they had become fairly comfortable in the routine of waking the other from a distance and then holding them when they were more coherent. Sure, Steve was stronger than Tony. But that didn’t mean it would be any less traumatic for the boy if he was awoken with a touch.

Either way, _this_ was new. 

Tony usually never woke him unless Steve was having a nightmare. In fact, Steve usually woke before the boy in the mornings and waited for him in the living room or occasionally the kitchen when the man wanted to try his hand at cooking breakfast. So far he’d managed one batch of pancakes that were fairly decent.

So he blinked awake in the darkness of the bedroom and sat up, turning to Tony. The boy’s hair was a mess and his eyes were wild. He was in pajama pants and lacked a shirt or anything on his bare feet.

“Tony, what-”

The boy darted to the bed, his usually careful movements when waking Steve were long forgotten. His breath came fast and his smile was blinding.

“I found Mom!”

  
  



	9. Before I fall

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> None of it mattered. 
> 
> This was Howard's only chance.
> 
> He would not waste it by lying in a broken heap on the cold concrete floor of this godforsaken place feeling sorry for himself.
> 
> He slowly brought himself to his feet on shaking legs and grabbed the gun he had previously discarded. Howard spat blood across the lifeless bodies of his captors and rolled his shoulders back. He reloaded the assault rifle and lifted his chin, setting his jaw in grim determination before stepping toward the door.
> 
> Stark men are made of iron.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *Tissue Warning*
> 
> I make no apologies.

Howard Anthony Stark was no fool.

He knew his chances of getting out of here alive were slim to none. Hell, he’d done the equations and percentages in his head. Howard’s chances of leaving this facility alive and mostly whole were 2.3%.

His own son accounted for a whole 1.5% of those odds and Howard desperately wanted him as far away from here as humanly possible. No matter how much he longed to see the boy again.

_He just wanted to see Tony one last time_

But the farther Tony was away from all of this, the better.

Howard would have previously laughed at the idea of being unable to escape a kidnapping. He wasn’t laughing now. 

This group was smarter than any other he had encountered, including the Ten Rings. They kept him isolated in a very well constructed cell when he wasn’t being tortured. They gave him absolutely no technology or scraps of any way, shape, or kind. And they kept him just drugged enough so that he wasn’t entirely aware of what was going on.

He hadn’t _meant_ to kill them.

Well, perhaps he had.

But it hadn’t been planned.

He’d just sort of lost it when one of his kidnappers mentioned that perhaps maybe they would have better luck with his boy if Howard didn’t want to cooperate.

So Howard had lunged at the unsuspecting man, heedless of the danger and the chair he was strapped to. He’d tackled him and had brought the one hand he had freed from its binding down again and again.

None of the other’s had thought to stop him until it was too late, so shocked were they.

And when they did, Howard had knocked them down with the back of the chair and stolen a gun. He’d shot one of his prison warden’s before they had overwhelmed him.

Tony was his _star._ A _star_ had no place among death.

  
  
  


* * *

It all passed by him in a blur.

The minute Tony had gotten those coordinates, he and his father had been moving. Tony had his flight suit and his armor on in under ten minutes. His father hadn’t been far behind.

The soldier had had two brief conversations on the phone that Tony was too busy with appropriating a SHIELD Quinjet to really listen in. He only really remembered the phone calls after they were taking off in the jet to the annoyance of most of SHIELD.

Fury didn’t even seem surprised.

His father directed Tony to land the jet on an airfield just shy of Florida and Tony had given the man an incredulous look.

“Trust me?” inquired the Captain.

Tony nosed the jet down toward the landing strip without a word. When he landed it, his father nudged him toward the entrance of the jet and Tony was shocked and awed to watch Romanov, Barton, and Banner step onto the vehicle.

It must have shown on his face because the archer quirked his lips, “What, mini-cap? You didn’t think we’d let you guys have all the fun on your own, now did ya?”

Barton brushed past him and mussed his hair on the way to the cockpit.

Romanov stepped toward him and kissed his cheek briefly, “Let’s go get your mother back, Antosha.”

Tony blinked at her in amazement, her normally sharp gaze was soft on him and she smoothly moved past him to take a seat on the jet. 

Banner smiled at him and Tony raised a brow, looking surprised. The scientist shrugged, “They’re all very persuasive…” as he rubbed the back of his neck.

Tony knew how much Bruce hated being the Hulk. For him to join them on this… 

He swallowed thickly, “Thank you.”

The man’s smile went crooked, “No problem, kid.”

Tony glanced at his father who smiled, “Never hurts to have a little extra help. Would have gotten Thor too but he’s still on Asgard.”

Tony nodded and sat down beside his father and the small group took back off again in silence, bound for the coordinates that placed Howard in South Africa. Tony shifted a bit in his suit, wishing he had waited to put the armor on till they were closer. His helmet was off, but the body armor wasn’t very comfortable.

When the jet touched down just out of immediate sight of the base, Tony brought his helmet over his head. All of the Avengers stood fastening their gear to themselves as they looked toward Captain America. The blond brought his cowl down over his head and hefted his shield.

He nodded to all of them. “Together?” 

Tony felt his father’s gaze on him and the heaviness of the question. The other Avengers turned their gaze toward Tony, as if waiting for his cue. 

_When had that happened?_

Tony lifted his chin and squared his shoulders, standing a little taller under the weight of all their eyes leveled upon him. His mouth quirked and he nodded at the others, at his father.

_“Always.”_

And together, Captain America and the Iron Patriot stepped off the jet, flanked by a team of people who apparently would walk into hell with them, no questions asked. 

* * *

Killing those guards had cost him. Instead of the cushy cell he’d once been in when not being tortured in that damned chair, Howard was hung by his wrists and chained to a wall.

That had only happened yesterday, but the chains were digging bloody lacerations into his thin wrists and Howard was calculating the odds of him being able to slip from them if he broke his hands. 

But how would he escape with two broken hands?

He tested the strength of his bonds again, biting his lip to a bloody pulp against the pain that came with the movement. Everything ached, sure. That’s what torture did to you. But this was a steady pain that just didn’t let up.

He shifted a bit, trying to ease the weight off his aching arms when the door to the room opened. The guards looked vindictively amused to see Howard there, hanging limply by his wrists and bloody.

“Stark. Time for your daily beauty appointment.” sneered one of them.

Howard watched them approach. He feigned an unclear gaze and confused expression. With the chaos of their dead men and changing Howard’s _accommodations_ they had forgotten to dose Howard with the drugs. It would cost them.

Howard waited for the tell tale clink of one of his cuffs opening, freeing his dominant left arm. He didn’t dare wait another second.

If Howard wanted to live, he had to make his move now.

If Howard ever wanted to see Tony again, he had to try, no matter the odds or how badly he ached.

The omega pressed a steady heel against the brick wall he still hung limply by one arm from and pushed over, using the leverage of his swing to propel his body up and land a swift kick with this other foot. The blow took the sneering guard right beneath his chin and the man’s neck snapped from the force of the kick with a satisfying crack.

The other guard immediately sprung into action. He swung the butt of the gun at Howard’s head viciously. Howard ducked the blow and grabbed frantically for the gun with his free hand. His fingers latched on.

There was a split second tug of war before Howard used the man’s distraction with the gun to kick off from the wall again and land both his legs on the guard’s shoulders. 

The guard realized what he was planning a second too late, but Howard could see the horror and fear that flared across his face before he was locking his ankles and squeezing his thighs around the man’s jugular.

He thrashed and fought. Howard dropped the gun, there was something far more precious than it at stake. His free hand blindly reached for the man’s belt still fighting the guard as he fought desperately for breath. 

Always one to cut everything down to the wire, Howard fingers wrapped around the keys and yanked just as the man rag-dolled into unconsciousness. The combination of Howard’s tugging and the force of gravity had the belt loop they hung from ripping. Howard dropped his legs from the guard’s shoulders and scrambled to fiddle with the keys.

He got lucky and the first one he jammed in the bracelet that still held him to the wall released his aching wrist with a click.

He dropped the foot of distance to the unforgiving concrete and his legs caved immediately beneath him. They felt like jello and he bit nearly entirely through his lip to muffle the scream that came with the pain from landing on his hands.

None of it mattered. 

This was Howard's only chance.

He would _not_ waste it by lying in a broken heap on the cold concrete floor of this godforsaken place feeling sorry for himself.

He slowly brought himself to his feet on shaking legs and grabbed the gun he had previously discarded. Howard spat blood across the lifeless bodies of his captors and rolled his shoulders back. He reloaded the assault rifle and lifted his chin, setting his jaw in grim determination before stepping toward the door.

_Stark men are made of iron._

* * *

Tony watches after Hawkeye and Widow for only a moment as they veer off from him and Cap. The father and son duo crept toward the West side of the complex. The assassins headed for the East, his father figuring Natasha could cover that side of the building, keeping to the shadows and killing quietly as was her specialty. Hawkeye accompanied her, intent on having her back till he could get into the vents and cover them all from above.

This left Iron Patriot and Captain America infiltrating on their own from the West.

Bruce was just outside the perimeter, hidden in a place the patrols didn’t come near according to the teams brief reconnaissance. Bruce was the one of the group least suited for stealth and best suited to provide any medical aid Howard might need. So Big Green was supposed to stay out of all of the action unless their cover was blown and the Avengers went loud.

Cap and Tony quietly crept toward the west entrance. Both of the heroes approached from opposite sides, staying out of sight.

“Go.” 

Steve’s hushed cue had Tony grabbing the guard quickly and fitting his elbow around the man's neck. After a few tense seconds the guard stopped struggling and Tony looked up as he dragged his guard off just as his father tugged the other’s body into the shadows.

Cap nodded at him before the duo took their positions by the door. They breached it quietly, the older pushing it open and ushering Tony in behind him when the coast was clear.

Both father and son took the facility slowly but steadily. They slipped past guards when they could and took out others when they couldn’t. They worked together beautifully, relying mostly on hand signals and nods. 

Ten minutes into the dangerous op, and there were still no alarms blaring.

They should have known it was too good to last.

* * *

Howard kept himself close to the wall as he rounded a corner, gun held at the ready. The two guards weren’t paying him any mind, talking between themselves about something Howard couldn’t care less about. 

The Omega got the drop on them and before the other knew what was happening, Howard had the barrel of the gun pressed to the first guard’s temple.

The remaining guard dropped his gun and held his arms up in surrender immediately.

“The exit. Tell me where it is, and I’ll simply knock you and your buddy here out. Lie to me, and I’ll make sure you don’t ever wake up again,” he threatened smoothly.

The guard didn’t hesitate, he pointed down the left hall with a shaking hand. Howard raised a brow.

“Just straight that way?” he clarified, tone even and dangerous despite the dizzying vertigo and nauseating blood loss.

The guard nodded and Howard swiftly hit the man he was holding with the butt of his gun. The body sagged to the floor like a dead weight. Before the other guard could react, he gave him the same treatment.

Swaying on dangerously unsteady legs with a head that pounded with his heartbeat so loudly he could barely think, Howard resolutely headed in the opposite direction the guard had pointed in.

He stumbled into the wall and reached a hand out to steady himself, praying his adrenaline would keep him going till he escaped despite the dark blood that seeped from a wound to his abdomen and his various other injuries.

Back in the room that had held Howard prisoner, a radio that had once hung from a now dead man’s hip squawked.

“Unit 613, you’ve missed your hourly check in. Report!”

  
  


* * *

Honestly, the plan had gone so beautifully.

The Captain was a master tactician and his orders had been solid. Both groups had slowly but steadily cleared each side of the compound, set to meet in the middle.

Tony and Steve had worked wonderfully together and Hawkeye offered occasional insight from the vent ducks as he searched for Howard from the relative safety of that secret place.

Widow was fairly lethal all on her own and she had no problems slowly searching her side of the building.

The Iron Patriot and Captain America were just in the middle of skirting another patrol to clear a room when everything went to hell in a handbasket. 

An alarm suddenly blared, painting the hall with red flashing lights and sending the small battalion of guards on high alert. They caught the movement of Tony’s shadow as he struggled to return to his hiding space and opened fire.

His father cursed rather creatively before flinging his shield into the small clustered group. Tony charged his repulsor as his father rushed into the fray. They took care of the group easily enough, working in sync, they had faced down an entire army before.

Tony and Steve took the corner and abandoned stealth for speed. They nearly passed another set of doors that didn’t look like what they needed when a voice from inside, more importantly a _name,_ had Tony and Steve grinding to a halt and doing an about face.

* * *

Howard cautiously tried a door and it opened quietly. 

The genius peaked his head in just as the alarms started blaring overhead. Caught by surprise, Howard took a blow to the back of his head that had the omega seeing stars and stumbling forward.

The man, Howard recognized him as the asshole who had led all of his interrogation and torture sessions, let him fall forward into the room before kicking the door shut behind him.

Howard scrambled to get to his feet, but the room swam as he struggled to his knees. A ringing in his ears and the edges of his vision darkening. 

The man offered him a saccharine smile, all teeth and hooded eyes. 

“I wonder what my father would say if he could see the great Howard Stark now. Oh, how the mighty have fallen.”

Howard spat at him. The man landed a quick kick to his jaw and Howard was pretty damn sure it broke with the hate of it.

His world was quickly darkening and Howard felt light headed as he fell forward to the ground.

The man’s face contorted into a snarl and he raised his gun. “Say hello to Captain America for me, bastard.”

* * *

Captain America threw open the door. It was a small room with a set of one way glass embedded in a wall. Not very special in any way.

Until Tony caught sight of a man standing over the bloody beaten body of his mother.

His vision went red, blood boiling and repulsors charging without a thought.

He fired the repulsor at the man just as his father threw his shield. A bullet nicked Tony’s shoulder plating before the man went down. He could hear the Widow over the comm, warning him that she was coming up on their six and they had company headed their way.

Steve was looking toward Howard with a million emotions displayed across his face, but the information the Widow fed them had his flickering his eyes worriedly between Tony and his unconscious mother.

“Dad?” Tony barely breathed, worried about the look he saw in the man’s eyes.

The Widow appeared in the doorway and Tony heard the sound of her promised company despite the blaring of the alarm. Steve stepped toward the door hefting his shield and Tony felt his heart hit his throat.

  
  
  


* * *

He heard voices, familiar ones, swimming near the surface of his awareness. Gun shots went off distantly and the familiar whirring of a repulsor had Howard kicking for the surface.

_Tony_

He blinked bleary eyes open but the edges of his vision were dark and colors blurred. He probably had a concussion.

Most definitely had a concussion considering he was hallucinating a voice he hadn’t heard in decades. The alarms were blaring loudly and Howard’s head was swimming but he would know that voice anywhere. 

“Tony! Go! We’ll cover you!” the voice commanded.

_Steve?_

Hallucinating, right.

He struggled to sit up but his damaged body wouldn’t cooperate. He turned his head a fraction instead, eyes trying to focus on what was going on. His limited field of vision was the ceiling and Howard made a frustrated sound that seemed far away due to the lack of knowledge.

_“Mom?”_

A familiar suit of armor was hovering over him. The face plate vanished into the rest of the helmet to reveal familiar blue eyes he’d truly thought he’d never see again. Howard nearly cried. 

_“Tony._ ” The name that had been the driving force for Howard surviving this long, left his lips in a croak. 

_He'd just wanted to see Tony one last time._

Here he was.

His _star_ , standing in the midst of this place of death.

Tony’s face contorted into various degrees of anger and sadness. The boy carefully bent and lifted Howard’s broken body into his arms. The omega bit his lip down to silence a cry of pain but Tony seemed to read it on his face anyway.

“I’m sorry,” his voice sounded wounded and hurt more than Howard felt. “I’m gonna get you out of here.”

Howard wanted to say a thousand things. He wanted to reach out and brush away a tear that trailed down a cut cheek. He wanted to tell Tony this wasn’t his fault. He wanted to yell at him for even being here. He wanted to tuck the boy against his chest and never let him go. The words wouldn’t come and the sound of gunfire and combat from not too far away screamed that it wasn’t the time.

Tony carried him toward a doorway before speaking into a communications unit, “Cap, Widow, I’ve got him.”

Howard was close enough to Tony that he could hear another voice on the line. “What am I, chopped liver?”

The familiar voice, Howard swore was Steve but logically knew couldn’t be, returned, “Not the time, Hawkeye. You keep an eye on Patriot. Widow, with me.”

“10-4, Cap.”

“Cover his 12, Widow and I have his 6.”

Tony broke in, “Cap, what-”

“Take him and go, Tony. We’ll cover you.” The voice Howard swore was Steve cut in. 

Gunfire and fighting was closer than was comfortable and Tony was shaking as he held Howard in the armored arms of the suit. 

Far away and not over the comm unit there was a creature's roar.

The child made a break down the hall, running and darting for hall after hall. 

“Caps down! I repeat, Cap’s down!” a woman’s voice announced.

Tony stumbled, nearly tripping over his own feet. He crashed into the wall rocking Howard roughly but the Omega didn’t even feel the pain. He was more focused on the play of blind panic across Tony’s features and the tears gathering in blue eyes. He was saying something, speaking (yelling) into his comm, but Howard couldn’t hear the words. Even with blood loss and pain so acute he could barely breathe through it, he was struggling to put the pieces of the puzzle together.

_Steve’s voice._

_Cap._

_The play of grief over Tony’s features._

Howard struggled for breath. Tony fixed his gaze on Howard and Tony’s face took an even more stricken look. Howard fought unconsciousness, “T-tony,” he struggled, “Y-you…. W-was….” Howard fought for words.

_“Steve?”_

The word left him breathless and the ringing in his ears drowned out the sound of his heartbeat. Howard struggled for his breath and Tony’s face paled. The boy was trying to say something but his mother couldn’t hear the words. 

He was shaking Howard, screaming at the Omega and at whoever was on the other side of the comms. His blue eyes filled with tears and Howard desperately wanted to fix this. To brush away his baby’s tears and tell him everything was going to be alright, but his vision was growing darker and it was getting harder to breath.

The last thing Howard saw was _Tony._

 _He’d asked for_ _just one last time._

It wasn’t enough.

Then he was...

Falling

Falling

Falling

… and knew no more.


	10. To Be Brave

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tony's trembling and struggling to breath but anger hits him like a tidal wave and he jerks to his feet, knocking over the hospital chair. The clatter of it echoes through the room and masks the noise of the door opening behind him.
> 
> “Don’t you understand!? This is all my fault!” His voice breaks.
> 
> Tony digs the nails of his fingers into his palms until the slight pain ground him, “I should have found him sooner. I should have been digging through those damn radio frequencies with a fine tooth comb!”
> 
> “Tony-”
> 
> “Don’t you ‘Tony’ me.” The boy snaps, glaring at the redhead, “My mother has saved me over and over again. From myself. From kidnappers. From anything that dare try and hurt me. He tore heaven and earth apart trying to find me every time some idiots grabbed me and he has always come for me. But I didn’t come for him. Not until it was almost too late. Now I might not ever get him back.
> 
> The boy is shaking so hard he can barely stand, “I left my father behind in that hell when he needed me and now he-” A sob breaks the sentence off and Tony never gets to complete it.

_ Steve was falling. _

_ The plane was going down, down, down. His hands were on the controls and Howard’s voice in his ear was broken in only a way Steve could hear it. _

_ He didn’t want to say goodbye. _

_ Howard deserved better. He deserved to be safe. He deserved to have a soulmate who wasn’t guiding a plane down into the arctic ocean. He deserved a family and happiness. He deserved a thousand things Steve couldn’t give. _

_ The plane hit. _

_ Steve’s lungs filled with water. There’s icy water freezing him from the inside out and everything is so very dark. He’s alone. _

_ Steve can't breathe. _

_ \--- _

_ A flash and then Steve is standing uselessly on the battlefield that is New York City staring helplessly as his son directs a missile through a portal on what is most assuredly a heroic suicide run. _

_ A boy he doesn’t know but desperately wants to. A boy who is half him and the man he loves. A boy who, sometimes- when the light hits him just right- reminds him so much of Howard, Steve physically aches. A boy who has lived thirteen years without him. A boy who is so full of light and hope and everything Steve wishes he was when all he feels is empty. _

_ Then the boy is gone and Steve is alone. _

_ He can’t breathe. _

_ \--- _

_ A flash and Steve is paused in the doorway of a metal compound with his son armored up beside him. His shield is on the floor at his feet and there is a dead man where there once was an enemy.  _

_ There is battered figure lying on the ground who looks an awful lot like his mate. _

_ The body isn’t moving and Steve feels his heart actually break.  _

_ His eyes flicker to Tony who’s staring at Howard. His sensitive ears catch the sound of Romanov’s footfalls. There’s the sound of many boots on tile and armor clinking. The sound of guns being carried and orders being given. The Widow’s warning rings clear through his headset and Steve meets Tony’s eyes. _

_ They’re worried and fearful. _

_ Little boys shouldn’t have to worry for their life. _

_ Little boys shouldn’t have to grow up without their fathers. _

_ Little boys shouldn’t have to see the battered body of their mother in a prison so far from home. _

_ Steve grits his teeth and hefts his shield as he turns to hurry for the door. He doesn’t look back, physically can't or he won't leave at all and Steve needs to forestall the men. He needs to make sure Howard and Tony can get out. _

_ Steve’s voice commands Tony to go as he rounds the corner and comes shoulder to shoulder with Black Widow. They meet eyes and nod, turning on the guards that approach. _

_ Steve’s not alone but his whole world is in the room next door. In danger. _

_ Steve can’t breathe. _

\---

Steve groans, recognizing the steady thrum of a heart monitor and the antiseptic smell of a hospital to the air. He shifts on an uncomfortable bed and blinks bleary blue eyes open. His vision fills with a be-speckled ceiling and he turns a little on the bed, blinking blearily as he takes in the tiny hospital room around him.

He’s alone.

For a second, Steve struggles to breathe.

He’s alone and Steve didn’t realize how terrified he was of being alone. He’s suddenly staring at a portal as his son vanishes through it. Suddenly in a fighter jet as he guides it down. Suddenly standing in a steel prison while his mate and child are a room away.

He can’t breathe.

The heart monitor is starting to screech in alarm and the door slams open. A half dozen men and women in scrubs enter the room. There’s yelling and orders being given but Steve can’t really hear them. One of them catches a flailing arm and Steve is so out of it, he doesn’t struggle. She injects a syringe beneath his skin.

A few seconds pass while there is chaos around him, then the insistent screeching of the heart alarm fades. Steve sucks in a lungful of air and the room swims. Darkness takes his vision before he can ask for Tony.

For Howard.

  
  


* * *

When Steve wakes again, he’s not alone.  He’s still in the uncomfortable hospital bed with the steady sound of a heart monitor greeting his ears. He shifts and groans lightly from the movement and the man in the chair near his bed jerks to life. 

Banner.

His eyes crinkle as he looks over Steve, “How are you feeling?” his tone is cautious. 

Steve is immediately on high alert.

He ignores the question, “Howard?” his voice croaks. “Tony?”

Bruce sighs and Steve’s heart is in his throat. His mind immediately goes through a thousand worst case scenarios. 

“They’re alive.” 

Steve’s shoulders relax an increment. That’s not exactly what he wants to hear but at this point, he’ll take anything.

“How bad?” Steve’s voice is hoarse and the blond narrows his gaze, “How long have I been out?”

Bruce fixates on the last question. “Three days,” he fidgets, “You woke briefly on the second, but whatever they shot you up with did a number on you. They had to put you right back down before you hurt yourself. They shot you full of some neuro-toxin. It took you down and kept you down. Fury thought it was made specifically for you.”

Steve frowns, "That can't be right. When Tony and I found Howard, we overheard that asshole threatening him. He said ' _Say hello to Captain America for me'_ when threatening him. Like he thought I was dead."

Bruce frowns, "Well, then why would they have made something that can take down a super-" Bruce pauses, face paling.

Steve doesn't need him to explain. He got exactly where Bruce's thoughts had went. "Tony," he croaks.

Bruce looks ill with the thought and Steve does as well. 

Steve has questions but only two matter, “Tony and Howard? You said they weren’t dead but…” Steve swallows, “How bad?”

Bruce sighs, ringing his hands, “Tony’s only a bit banged up. He had a mild concussion and a few scrapes. He’s fine, Steve. Practically unharmed.”

Steve takes a deep breath, relieved beyond measure his son is alright. He hesitates before he asks, “Howard?”

Bruce looks away.

* * *

“ _ Antosha.”  _ Natasha greets, sliding gracefully into the chair beside him. “Here. Eat.” She insists, pushing a greasy brown bag into his hands. Tony doesn’t take it, he looks away. His eyes focused on the pale face of his mother, looking so small in the hospital bed with all sorts of wires and machines hooked up to him.

The assassin puts a finger under his chin and guides Tony’s face back to her. She looks him in the eyes, “Your mother wouldn’t want you neglecting yourself on account of him.”

Tony closes his eyes, gritting his teeth against the panic that threatened to consume him. His ears catch the sound of the paper bag hitting the floor and before he knows what’s happening, the Russian is tugging Tony’s small frame into her arms.

Tony is so shocked, he just lets it happen. He feels tears gather in the corners of his eyes. He blinks them away furiously, mad at himself as he shakes in the woman’s arms. 

She pulls back to catch him by the face, “This is  **not** your fault,  _ Antosha. _ ” her eyes are serious on his baby blues and Tony swallows.

He pushes himself out of the assassin's arms with a jerk. Tony's trembling and struggling to breath but anger hits him like a tidal wave and he jerks to his feet, knocking over the hospital chair. The clatter of it echoes through the room and masks the noise of the door opening behind him.

“Don’t you understand!? This is all my fault!” His voice breaks.

Tony digs the nails of his fingers into his palms until the slight pain ground him, “I should have found him sooner. I should have been digging through those damn radio frequencies with a fine tooth comb!”

_ “Tony-” _

“Don’t you ‘ _ Tony’ _ me.” The boy snaps, glaring at the redhead, “My mother has saved me over and over again. From myself. From kidnappers. From anything that dare try and hurt me. He tore heaven and earth apart trying to find me every time some idiots grabbed me and he has  _ always _ come for me. But  _ I _ didn’t come for  _ him. _ Not until it was almost too late. Now I might not _ever_ get him back.

The boy is shaking so hard he can barely stand, “I left my  _ father  _ behind in that hell when he _needed_ me and now he-” A sob breaks the sentence off and Tony never gets to complete it.

He’s jerked around by his shoulders. Tony nearly decks the person who dares manhandle him when his wrist is caught in gentle hands and blue eyes meet his own.

Tony’s breath catches.

“Tony,” His father breathes, softly. His hair is a greasy mess and he’s wearing one of those god awful hospital gowns, but it’s him. The man’s eyes are wet and soft on him. Tony doesn’t get a chance to respond before he’s tugged against a solid chest. The scent breaks something deep inside Tony’s chest and the boy’s resolve crumbles. He collapses against Steve’s chest, feeling strong arms wind around his torso.

Neither notice the assassin slips from the room silently. She tugs a still shell-shocked Bruce, who’d been standing in the doorway, along with her. The door clicks shut behind them both but neither father nor son notice. 

Steve carefully slips an arm beneath Tony’s knees and hefts the boy carefully into his arms. Tony does nothing except bury his face in the crook of Steve’s neck and the soldier can feel the tell-tale wetness of tears.

Steve rights the fallen chair with a clever foot and pushes the other one away as he eases down into the seat, keeping his son tightly wound in his arms. Steve shushes and and soothes the boy quietly, keeping Tony’s fingers wedged to his pulse as had become their routine. 

The soldier presses his face into Tony’s hair to take a solid inhale of the boy's scent. He breathes it in, allowing it to ease some of his anxiety. His blue eyes flicker to the bed he sits by and his chest constricts at the sight of Howard’s small frame so still.  Howard, much like Tony, had always been a ball of chaotic energy. The man was always moving or talking or something. Howard was larger than life with his laugh and smile and… everything. Steve’s chest ached at the sight of him so still.

Tony shifted a little in his arms and Steve returned his attention to the boy. He lifts Tony’s chin with a firm finger and meets the boy’s glassy blue eyes with his own, “Sweetheart, you need to listen to me,” Steve hums.  He brushes a thumb over the line of Tony’s cheek,  **“This was not your fault.”**

Tony opens his mouth to argue but the soldier silences it with a look. He kisses Tony’s forehead quietly, “You did so good, sweetheart. The fact that you caught that transmission at all and got coordinates out of it. I don’t know anyone else who could have possibly done that.”

“Mom-”

“Is an adult and has over seventy years on you, and I’m not sure he would have managed it either, honey,” the soldier assures as he smoothed back Tony’s hair. He continued, “Plus, you’re  _ our _ son, Tony. It’s not _your_ job to take care of _us_.”

“But-”

“I know you want to help and are more than capable of it. I have no problem with that as long as you’re safe while doing it and allow us to do our part as well, but you need to understand that you can’t do everything, Tony. You’re human. You’re still a kid. You’re not always going to be able to get there in time or fix every problem. It’s just part of being human,” Steve insisted.

The boy opened his mouth and closed it a few times, struggling to come up with what to say in response. His father smiled softly, “I’m so proud of you, Tony. So incredibly proud. You did something even the so-called intelligence agency, SHIELD, failed to do. You were great on the field in that compound and I have no doubt everything would have gone perfectly had that alarm not gone off.”

The tension from Tony’s small shoulders dropped and the boy met Steve’s eyes, thoughts going a million miles a second. He still didn’t fully believe what his father was saying, about it not being his fault. He didn’t know if he ever would. His mind was still stuck on the what-ifs. What if Tony had been sleeping in bed like he was supposed to? What if he’d never caught that signal?  Would his mother be dead?

Or what if he’d found it sooner?  Would Howard not be in such critical health?

Tony swallowed thickly and Steve rubbed his thumb gently along the side of Tony’s face. The blond met his eyes with a serious expression, “And  **you did not leave me back there.”** The alpha growled lowly at even the insinuation. 

“I did too, I-”

“I told you to take your mother and go. Someone had to take him out of there, Tony. He needed medical care. And you couldn’t very well help me if you were carrying him.” 

The wind fell out of Tony’s sails and he just felt tired. That was a logical argument even Tony couldn’t refute. He pressed his forehead to Steve’s collarbone and just breathed for a few moments, reveling in his father being awake and _here_.

Tony had been all on his own for these past three days, with both his parents in hospital beds and the boy feeling responsible. He’d already been staving off a panic attack by the skin of his teeth when they were first brought in. The past three days had made the young boy numb to everything, or else he would risk succumbing to the anxiety and unknown. The thought of doing that here, while both his parents needed him made him feel physically ill.

Steve rubbed a hand down his back and both of them simply sat in silence for a moment. Steve broke it when he quietly spoke up, “Do you know how bad it is?” he indicated to Howard for clarity. 

Tony frowned, “They didn’t tell you?”

“Bruce told me you were mostly okay and that Howard was in critical care. He said you were with him and that you weren’t doing so good-”

“I’m fine.”

“Tony, he said you haven’t been eating or sleeping at all. Have you been in here with your mother the whole time?”

Tony frowned, “No. I’ve been in your room too.” At the look on his father’s face he added, “What, you didn’t think I’d forget about you?”

“No, but-” Steve cut himself off, looking down. “Forget it, kiddo. It’s stupid and just me being insecure.”

Tony frowned, “No. Tell me.”

Steve sighed, “It’s stupid, Tony. More of my brain ganging up on me than anything.”

“That’s not an answer.”

Steve sighed and carefully tucked Tony against his chest, resting his chin on the nest of brown curls for a moment before sighing deeply. “I may have this stupid thought occasionally that, uh… when we found your mother… you wouldn’t need me anymore.” Steve rubs the back of his neck sheepishly with the arm that isn’t lopped loosely around Tony’s waist.

Tony stiffens.

Steve’s voice holds a tremor, “You’ve had your mother for thirteen years. You seem like you did just fine without me…”

Tony’s laugh is bitter and hot against his throat, “Fine isn’t the same as happy, Dad.” Tony lifts his face and his eyes are soft on Steve. He raises a small hand and carefully wipes away a tear that Steve hadn’t realized had fallen. 

Tony smiles softly at him, “Mom… Mom spent years looking for you before I was even _born_. He took me, once I was old enough, on plenty of expeditions looking for you too. He used to tuck me into bed with stories of you. Spent my childhood trekking me up and down Brooklyn trying to make me feel as close to you as possible. When things felt awful, or hopeless, he would hold me and- promise me that he was going to find you one day. Swore to me over and over again that he knew you were alive, just out there waiting for us to find you, and that when we did we would be a _family_.”

Steve takes a shaky inhale, something in him easing with the reassurance. Tony had unknowingly assuaged a bit of his worry with Howard not needing him anymore either. He runs an affectionate hand through Tony’s hair and offers him a tremulous smile. Before he can say anything, Tony continues.

“Just because you know the thought is stupid, doesn’t mean you don’t need someone else to tell you so.” He quickly wrapped his arms around Steve’s neck, pressing his face against the side of his neck. His voice is very quiet and thready, _“I’ll always need you.”_

Steve swallows thickly, heart in his throat. He wraps his arms possessively around his son. He thanks god quietly that he has him for a moment, with his cheeks pressed against his wild chestnut curls. They enjoy the moment before Tony lists his head. 

He fights with himself for a moment, torn between not saying anything and desperately wanting to. But Steve had been brave with his own insecurities, so Tony could be brave too. Steve is watching him patiently, as if he knows Tony is struggling with something. The brunette takes a breath, “Speaking of um… stupid thoughts…”

When Tony doesn’t immediately continue, Steve rubs a hand down him back. The soldier turns his own words back on him with a small encouraging smile, “Just because you know the thought is stupid, doesn’t mean you don’t need someone else to tell you so.”

Tony nods before looking away, eyes resolutely trained on his mother’s falling and rising chest, “I’m kind of half waiting for me to do something… fail or not be smart enough or strong enough… or anything… That may I'm too broken that you might just… decide I’m not worth the trouble. That you won't-” Tony cuts off.

It’s a struggle to get the words out and Tony is bright red by the time he finishes, tearing at the skin of his lower lip with his teeth. He feels awfully exposed and off-kilter and uncomfortable letting the words out but there’s something inherently freeing about it as well. 

Steve growls lowly and turns the boy with a finger under his chin. He takes careful hold of Tony’s face with his large hand and presses their foreheads together. 

“Tony, sweetheart. There is nothing you could do, _nothing in this world_ , that will make me not love you or not want you. Understand?” his voice is low and serious, eyes blazing with an emotion that makes Tony dizzy to think about.

Tony makes a quiet noise, almost as if he wants to argue. Steve smiles gently at him and sentimentally rubs their noses together. Tony makes a face at the affectionate gesture before Steve pulls back just a bit. 

“You’re not broken either,” Steve insists. “You and your mother have both been through hell. Add on your brush with death a few weeks ago, and I’d be honestly more worried if you _weren’t_ having nightmares or panic attacks... and I have them too.” Steve's voice is a bare whisper by the end of it and he hesitates before adding, “ _Both_ of them. That’s how I knew to do the pulse thing. Bucky used to- ...when I had asthma... I guess I just appropriated it to anxiety attacks and the like, but I have those _too_ , Tony.”

Tony stares at him, awestruck. The captain offers a bittersweet smile, “Do you think _I’m_ broken?”

Tony frowns, “No!”

Steve smiles and brushes the boy’s bangs back, “Then neither are you,” he smoothed a hand through Tony’s hair before cupping his cheek. He makes sure he has the boy's eyes, “I’ll always need you too, Tony.”

The brunet swallows thickly and presses his face into the crook of his father's neck as he digests the words. It no miracle cure for his feelings but it does somehow make Tony feel light. The boy just takes and moment to sit there, in his father's arms, and breathe in the scent of safety and home.

When Tony looks up after what feels like an eternity of them just sitting there, both silently processing, Steve smiles at him. Tony’s eyes flicker to the bed, mouth turning down, “He lost a lot of blood.” he sighs.

Steve takes the change of subject and nods, his eyes focusing on Howard, “And?”

“Broken jaw, four broken ribs, one of which went through a lung. A broken wrist and clavicle. Pretty severe head trauma. Internal bleeding. He’s had three surgeries and they have no idea how he went as long as he did with all of the blood loss. He’s had 6 transfusions.”

“Jesus Christ.” The alpha growls and presses his hands to his eyes, overwhelmed. 

“He had bleeding in his brain, dad. They're not sure if he’s even going to wake up, never mind if he’ll be all there if he does.”

Steve hugs Tony to him and the child lets him comfort him for a moment. 

Steve swallows and then holds Tony at arms length, “Alright, kiddo. One bridge at a time. Right now, we both could use a shower and some food, sleep as well. So here’s what we’re gonna do. You’ve been standing vigil on both of us for three days now. Let Nat take you back to the tower, shower and change. Pack some clothes to take up here. Then when you get back, I’ll go.”

Tony hesitates.

“I’ll stay right here with him the whole time, Tony. We’re not doing Howard any good by neglecting ourselves. When we both get back, we’ll see about ordering some food.” Steve argues.

Tony sighs and carefully stands. “I’ll be right back.”

Steve smiles, “I know.”

  
  



	11. A Debt of Time

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This was his soulmate.
> 
> His brain supplied him with a name from the Project Rebirth files and Howard’s blood ran cold as it occurred to him just who this man was and what was about to happen to him. Steve opened his mouth to say something but Dr. Erskine stopped whatever words the man was about to say with a heavy hand on Howard’s shoulder.
> 
> “We’re about to start, gentleman,” his accent was heavy but his eyes were narrowed on the both of them. 
> 
> Howard couldn’t breathe. 
> 
> The older man seemed to figure it out and he looked between them a moment. “Of all the…” his voice faded out when Howard met Steve’s eyes again. He never wanted to look away.
> 
> The doctor was tugging Howard by the arm and telling him they had to start. Howard couldn’t breathe. He knew he was capable of the action but his lungs simply wouldn’t draw breath. Steve’s eyes were wet and the blond mouthed words to him.
> 
> I’m sorry.

_ Howard had stepped down from the gallery and into the lab where Project Rebirth was about to commence. The minute he’d stepped into the room, a ringing had filled his ears. He felt as if he were being pulled, like a puppet on a string, down the stairs and into the room. _

_ It was a flurry of activity with Dr. Erskine at the center. Ordinarily, Howard would have stepped into the spotlight himself with the good doctor. After all, he loved a crowd and a crowd had a tendency to love him. _

_ However, the thought didn’t even occur to him. He felt like a weight had settled upon his shoulders, but not in a bad way. In a grounding sort of way. Like coming home. The feeling confused him, though a part of his brain was screaming that he had read about a sensation just like this. He never got the chance to complete the thought and follow it through to the inevitable conclusion. He looked up and blue eyes caught his whiskey brown ones. _

_ It was like the world fell away. _

_ For a moment that felt like forever and only a second all at once, Howard Stark met Steve Roger’s gaze and he was hypnotized.  _

_ It was like the best kind of kick to the chest. His breath left him all at once as he locked eyes with the small alpha strapped down to the device Howard himself had built. For the first time since he was a child, Howard’s brain screeched to a halt. _

_ Nothing else mattered to him besides the blond male. His legs brought him forward without thought and suddenly Howard was standing before the blond, both of their faces colored with awe and surprise. _

_ This was his soulmate. _

_ His brain supplied him with a name from the Project Rebirth files and Howard’s blood ran cold as it occurred to him just who this man was and what was about to happen to him. Steve opened his mouth to say something but Dr. Erskine stopped whatever words the man was about to say with a heavy hand on Howard’s shoulder. _

_ “We’re about to start, gentleman.” his accent was heavy but his eyes were narrowed on the both of them.  _

_ Howard couldn’t breathe.  _

_ The older man seemed to figure it out and he looked between them a moment. “Of all the…” his voice faded out when Howard met Steve’s eyes again. He never wanted to look away. _

_ The doctor was tugging Howard by the arm and telling him they had to start. Howard couldn’t breathe. He knew he was capable of the action but his lungs simply wouldn’t draw breath. Steve’s eyes were wet and the blond mouthed words to him. _

**_I’m sorry._ **

_ Howard felt ill.  _

_ The doctor jerked him by the arm and pushed him in the direction of the control console. “This will work,” the man promised him. Then he turned to face the crowd, microphone brought to his lips. _

_ Howard forced himself to press his hand to the console, but he never broke eye contact with his soulmate. Everything passed by without either of the two men noticing, Dr. Erskine’s voice droning in the background. He never looked away, not until he couldn’t see the man anymore. _

_ His hands shook, already moving to drop the voltage on the Vita Rays as he nearly fell to his knees from the scream that was wrought from his soulmate’s lips. He only paused when Steve begged to continue. He closed his eyes tightly before cranking the wheel. _

_ When the hatch opened again and Steve Rogers was still breathing, that’s all that Howard cared about. His legs were forcing him toward the man without a thought and Howard caught the blond under one arm. Howard was aware of his mouth blabbering something, but he didn’t even hear the words.  _

_ He met those blue eyes closer than before and Howard didn’t care about anything else. Everything would be fine. _

_ Until an explosion rocked the small lab and suddenly everything wasn’t. _

* * *

His mouth felt like cotton and Howard’s head wasn’t much better. Everything ached in a dull far off way that screamed of morphine. He was lying on something and the quiet pulse of a heart monitor was the only sound his ears picked up as he swam for consciousness.

With no little amount of effort, Howard struggled to open his eyes. They creaked open painfully and he squinted into the dim room. The lights were mostly off, only the light streaming in from a cracked door illuminated the room and Howard’s eyes took a moment to get used to it.

He shifted a little and a quiet noise from his immediate right caught his attention. A mop of chestnut curls Howard would know anywhere, even half drugged out of his mind apparently, was nodding into a chest that glowed with the faint outline of an arc reactor.

Howard’s breath caught.

The rest of his sense caught up to him and his ears caught the steady sound of Tony breathing deeply, as if asleep. His nose inhaled the sharp scent of antiseptic and  _ Tony. _ Another scent clung to the room, one Howard thought he knew but had to be imagining.

With the scent came a flood of memories.

Waking up to Tony hovering over him. His son picking him up and talking into a com. 

_ Steve’s voice. _

_ Cap. _

_ The play of grief over Tony’s face. _

His eyes searched the room on autopilot, even as his brain railed that this was impossible. All those thoughts silenced when they caught a familiar figure curled on a hospital bed tucked into the corner of the room. Howard struggled to sit up, squinting against the darkness of the room to attempt to get a closer look at the blond. Every part of Howard screamed this was his soulmate, even his brain seemed convinced of this.

His eyes focused on the form in the bed and they picked up normal clothes and blond hair. The lines of a body Howard would know anywhere. The man was facing away from him, and the sound of slow even breaths supplied Howard’s muddied thoughts that he too was asleep.

The omega’s movement seemed to have jostled the boy leaning into his hospital bed and a familiar face tipped up, baby blues meeting Howard. They blinked blearily at him for a confused moment, those blue eyes Howard loved so much were clouded with sleep.

They suddenly cleared and alarm painted across that expressive face.

“Mom,” Tony’s voice broke the silence in a hushed whisper, seemingly unsure. 

“Tony,” Howard’s voice croaked, a hand reaching up for the child with a great degree of effort.

Tony surged forward, clasping Howard’s hand like his life depended on it. Tears blurred in those blue eyes and Howard had the urge to wipe them away, but Tony was holding the hand closest to him and Howard was fairly sure he wasn’t capable of moving enough to bring the other toward his child.

“You’re awake,” Tony’s voice quivered with overwhelmed amazement.

Howard squinted, shifting a little closer to the child despite how much his body protested at the small degree of movement. Howard was nothing if not stubborn. His son needed him and he wasn’t going to let the limitation of his body stop him from comforting the small boy. 

“I’m here,  _ mia stella,  _ I’m here.” Howard’s voice cracked with the words but Tony heard them because he pressed his face into Howard’s shoulder.

“I thought I’d never hear you call me that again,” Tony’s voice is broken and there’s a telltale wetness soaking into the thin hospital gown. Howard tugs his hand gently from Tony’s fingers and brings them up to rake through Tony’s warm brown hair. 

The familiar sensation of Tony’s soft tresses falling through Howard’s fingertips has the omega releasing a breath he hadn’t known he’d been holding. His imagination wasn’t good enough to come up with the feeling and the sucker punch of  _ home  _ and  _ safe  _ that came with it.

Howard struggles for words, “How long have I been out?”

Tony doesn’t lift his face and Howard revels in the feeling of Tony’s warm breath against his neck. The boy’s voice is shaky, “Those bastards had you for nearly two months. You’ve been unconscious for a little over a month. We rescued you on September 6th and it’s October 9th.”

Howard's thankful for the thorough explanation, complete with dates. He leaned his head a little to rest against Tony’s head. The boy lets out a breath, “I didn’t think you’d ever wake up.”

Howard doesn’t have anything to say to that except to nuzzle Tony’s head, reassuring the boy without words that he was here with him, awake and breathing. The two simply breathe each other in for a long time in the darkness of the room. 

Howard can pick up the sounds of voices and medical equipment from outside the room, though they are quiet. His mind supplies him with hospital and the familiar lay out of the room tells him SHIELD. His ears pick up someone else breathing, still deep and steady. The sound has his brain scrambling and Howard lifts his head. 

Tony lifts his own in response and Howard meets his son’s eyes, “Tony, did I- I thought- Is that-?” His voice breaks at the start of each question and Tony looks confused.

Howard tries again, “Steve.”

Tony’s face flickers to life with realization, “Yes.” Tony breathes, he touches Howard’s face with trembling fingertips. Tony’s warm blue eyes are an oasis of deep emotion that makes Howard’s stomach flip.

“You were right, Mom,” The boy's voice falters. “They found him. Shield found him about two months ago. Frozen in the ice. You were right.”

Howard’s brain blue screens. He struggles with the information Tony just gave him, thoughts running frantically to try and keep up. They scramble through his brain resorting information and coming up with more questions each time. Howard blinks, confused at Tony.

Tony continues, “He’s here, Mom. He’s been here. He rescued you with me. Has been staying here with me while we wait for you to wake up.”

  
  
  


* * *

Tony can hardly believe he’s not dreaming. His mother was here, awake and talking. He was calling Tony  _ his star _ and asking questions and generally behaving like Howard Stark should. There was no evidence of any brain damage that Tony could see and, besides the man moving with some degree of caution and wincing every now and again, there didn’t seem to be anything to worry about.

Logically, Tony knew he should get a doctor or nurse to fully check his mother out. At the very least, he should wake his father. But he needed to hear his mother’s voice and just  _ talk _ with him a moment. Tony had thought he’d never see those brown eyes again. He’d thought he’d never hear his mother croon endearments in Italian or run his fingers through his hair again. He could have just one moment, just a few short minutes with him, before the rest of life intruded.

Plus, Tony was pretty sure he should be the one to prep Howard for seeing Steve again and not just spring the super soldier on him. Despite Howard’s confidence his soulmate was alive, believing something to be true and seeing it were two very different things. The wisdom of Tony’s decision was evident when Howard blue screened with the boy’s words.

Tony gave the man a few moments to process this information. Howard actually bounced back quicker than Tony expected of him, though the man didn’t look like he was quite convinced. 

“You- you’re sure?” clarified Howard, his voice shaking.

Tony nodded firmly, though his eyes and voice were soft, “Yes, Mom. I’m very sure.”

The boy then leaned forward and clasped one of Howard’s hands between both of his palms. He threaded his fingers with his mother’s gently before he smiled weakly. Then he started talking. He told Howard of staying with the Rhodes’ and Fury’s call. Of seeing Captain America fighting Loki and the meeting that happened after. He spoke quietly of his request for proof and Tony’s ensuing panic attack. He offered the quiet story of fixing the engine with his father and the news of Coulson’s death.

He told his mother all of it and Howard listened with rapt attention to his son’s words, only pausing to comment here and there and ask clarifying questions. He praised Tony on his quick thinking during the confrontation with Loki and looked horrified as Tony described the ensuing invasion. 

Tony hesitated only once before coming fourth with driving the missile into the portal. Howard didn’t say a word but the tightening of his grip on Tony’s hands and the brushing of his finger’s through Tony’s hair spoke volumes.

He told Howard of Steve and their comm link before Tony had gone through the portal. He quietly rehashed waking up to the man crying and then finding out he had died. He spoke with soft words about Steve and his conversation and Howard seemed to find something a little amusing in the story, though he didn’t say what. He listened as Tony confided in his insecurities and his panic attack about leaving the hotel. When Tony finally caught up to the current day after briefly explaining how they had found and rescued him, along with Steve waking up and the two of them staying by Howard’s bedside for the last month, Howard brushed his fingers across Tony’s cheekbone.

Tony fell stone silent as Howard mapped his face with his fingers. The darkness held them with close comfort and Tony relaxed quietly under the ministrations. His mother found Tony’s wrist and bit down lightly on it and the simple act soothed something in Tony that the boy hadn’t known still ached.

Tony took Howard’s wrist in shaking hands and quietly reciprocated the action. Howard made a quiet noise and released a loud breath. The mother and son sat in the darkened hospital room for a long time, just enjoying the other’s company and breathing in their shared scent. 

“Do you want me to wake up Dad?” asked Tony quietly. His mother’s lips tugged into a smile at the end of Tony’s sentence and the boy assumed it had to do with what Tony called the super soldier.

Howard nodded without a word and Tony silently stood on shaking legs to turn for the spare hospital bed the nurses had been nice enough to let the two of them use and approached his father. The two had been alternating on who slept and who kept watch and Tony felt a little guilty about falling asleep during his turn but the quiet darkness had lulled the boy into unconsciousness.

He glanced back over at his mother, who was watching with observant brown eyes. The older male nodded at him once and Tony turned to carefully nudged the blond. 

“Dad?”  
  
  


* * *

“Dad?”

His son’s familiar voice pierced through the dark void of his sleeping world and Steve struggled to blink awake into the darkened hospital room. The referenced child stood crouched by his face, blocking Steve’s view of most of the room and the soldier narrowed his eyes with concern on the boy.

“Tony? What’s wrong, sweetheart? Is everything okay?” questioned Steve, already sitting up and blinking at the boy with worry. 

Tony merely smiled at him, “Mom’s awake.”

Steve’s heart stuttered in his chest and his frantic worried thoughts all came to a screeching thought. For a moment, the room was completely silent save for the sound of breaths. Steve’s eyes flickered of their own accord over Tony’s shoulder to lock eyes with warm brown one’s Steve had ached for.

A memory flashes up, unbidden before his eyes and Steve makes a choked noise from the emotion that accompanies it.

_ Howard, elbows deep in a fighter jet conversing with some military brass while he walks into the room following Peggy. The man meets Steve’s eyes and his whiskey brown ones hold awe as they stare at him. _

_ He doesn’t seem to be following the conversation about Hydra that the military personnel is conversing about. Steve abandons Peggy’s side to jump down near the fighter with the omega.  _

_ The man’s thin lips tug into a smile at the corner and Steve replicates the movement without a second thought. The mechanic leans against the body of the jet and his eyes are soft and sincere on Steve, warmth fills the blond like nothing else.  _

_ “Hey,” Steve greets, voice hoarse with amazement. _

_ The brown-eyed man looks at him with amusement, “Hey, yourself.” _

_ That’s it. That’s all they get to say before the military brass is telling Peggy to pack her things and tacking, “You too, Stark,” on at the end. _

_ Steve tries to argue. Not only because he wants to serve his country and not just sit in some lab as some science experiment, but also because he wants to follow his soulmate. _

_ His logic falls on deaf ears and Steve is accidentally signing up for the last thing he wants to do while Peggy pulls a reluctant Stark away. Steve doesn’t even have a first name. Just Stark. He doesn’t care. _

_ He’d follow him anywhere. _

Steve had genuinely thought he’d never see those warm brown eyes again. He twists himself so he’s sitting on the cot, knees bent at the edge and feet flat on the floor. Tony steps away slightly so the two can clearly see each other.

“Hey,” Steve greets, voice hoarse with amazement.

The brown-eyed man looks at him with amusement, “Hey, yourself.”

If Steve wasn’t so awe-struck at having Howard here in front of him, alive and breathing, he would have laughed at the irony of the repetition of a scene set more than sixty years previous. 

Howard seems to have similar thoughts and every part of Steve wants to close the distance between them and tug the omega into his arms.

There’s a few problems with that idea. 

For starters, Howard is still very much injured and the movement would probably cause him some degree of pain. Secondly, Steve (despite hearing much about how Howard had searched for him) still doesn’t know exactly where the two of them stand.

For Steve, it hasn’t even been six months since he last saw the omega. But for Howard, he knows it's been over half a century.

Despite the pain the omega is clearly in a little over a month has clearly done him some good, healing-wise. The only reason he hadn’t yet woken was the fact that the doctors had been purposely keeping him under to give his body time to recover and his brain to heal. 

So Howard is a little pale and a little small looking in the hospital bed, but with his brown eyes open and lips tilted in an endearingly crooked smile, he looks just like the omega Steve had left behind.

The thought is nearly painful with its intensity and Steve has no clue what to say to him. A thousand words rise to his lips, but they all seem so inadequate.

Tony glances between them for a moment and then seems to decide something. He glances at his mother, “You know what you need, Mom? Coffee.” He nods to himself, “I’ll go get us all some.”

Howard snorts at his son, since Tony is fairly obvious with what he’s doing and Steve chuckles quietly to himself. He stands carefully and Tony takes his hand to squeeze it briefly. The boy moves to Howard and places a careful kiss on the omega’s forehead before heading for the door.

“I’ll be right back,” promises the child and both alpha and omega nod to show they had heard him, despite not taking their eyes off each other.

The door closed with a click and for the first time in over half a century, Steve Rogers and Howard Stark were together alone once more. 

“I think you promised to show me how to dance?”

Howard’s smile finally reached his eyes.

  
  
  
  
  



	12. Selfish

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “How are you feeling?”
> 
> Howard blinks up at him before focusing on the question, “Sore,” his voice is hoarse and he swallows before adding, “Morphine’s mostly doing its job, though.”
> 
> Steve doesn’t lift his gaze from Howard as he carefully sits in the chair Tony had vacated. They descend into silence once more before Howard’s had enough of this awkward thing. They should not be awkward. Howard has a bond-mark on his neck that promises they should be a lot of things, but awkward isn’t one of them.
> 
> “You missed our date, Rogers.” Howard tried, subtlety had never been one of his strong points.
> 
> Steve smiles weakly, “I don’t suppose I could ask for another rain-check then?”
> 
> Howard swallows, running his eyes over the blond, “That depends.”
> 
> “On?”
> 
> “Are you going to break it again?” Despite himself, Howard’s voice carries a tremor and his eyes are wet.

_“He wants to_ **_what?_ ** _” Howard hisses, turning to face Agent Carter fully, his eyes burning with emotion._

_Peggy’s voice is calm when she returns, “His friend went missing over there and no one here is letting him do anything more than play the part of some dancing monkey. He wants to go after Sergeant Barnes and the rest of his accompaniment. Now are you going to help us, Howard, or not?”_

_Howard’s breath catches and he turns away to plant his palms on the counter. Peggy’s up behind him in a heartbeat, “What the hell is a matter with you, Stark? You live and breath for this sort of thing and you're the best damn pilot we’ve got. I thought you wouldn’t even hesitate.”_

_“Hesitate to drop my godforsaken_ **_soulmate_ ** _off on a suicide run in hostile territory with no back up. Sure, that sounds like something I’d do.” Howard snaps before shouldering past Peggy toward the doorway._

_“Your soulmate?” Peggy sounds surprised as she catches his wrist._

_Howard doesn’t look up. Peggy makes a frustrated noise, “Damn men,” she mutters. Howard raises his eyes and Peggy meets them, “Have you even spoken to him?”_

_“Oh, you mean more than saying ‘hey’ before Colonel Phillips had you and I packing our bags? No, Peggy. Gee whiz, sure wish I had thought of that. Not like it’s in the middle of war time or anything,” Howard hissed at her._

_“Oh, fuck you, Howard. We both know damn well that if you really wanted to talk to Steve you would have found a way. So why didn’t you?”_

_The anger fades from Howard as fast it had come before he’s shifting on his feet and looking away. Peggy seems to take this like an answer in itself._

_“You’re afraid.”_

_“I’m not-”_

_“You are. If you weren’t you would have already tracked Steve down and we wouldn’t be having this conversation. Well, pull your socks up, Stark. You said it yourself, we’re in war time. Either step up or step aside. Tomorrow’s not guaranteed. You might not get another chance to talk to him. Now are you piloting the jet or not?”_

_Far be it from Howard to try and say ‘no’ to Peggy Carter_

_\---_

_Stepping onto the stolen fighter jet had been both the bravest and stupidest thing Howard had ever done._

_All of those thoughts shut the hell up once Steve Rogers, following Peggy with the weight of the world on his shoulders, stepped aboard._ _He looked good with the combination of Captain America and military soldier get up he had on. He seemed much more comfortable in those clothes rather than the costume he’d been wearing at any rate. Peggy sat down in one of the chairs a good distance behind the open cockpit. She muttered something to Steve and pushed him forward toward Howard._

_The soldier stumbled once, meeting Howard’s eyes and freezing for a moment. Peggy muttered something about men being idiots and Howard snorted unbecomingly._

_This seemed to unfreeze Rogers and the man walked up to the cockpit hesitantly. He indicated to the empty co-pilot chair, “This seat taken?”_

_Howard shook his head and rolled his eyes at the flustered blond before indicating to the chair as well, “All yours, Spangles.”_

_Steve grinned at him before sitting down. The man remained quiet while Howard went through takeoff procedures. He got the bird in the air and on the required trajectory before he glanced in the alpha’s direction. He set the aircraft on autopilot._

_Steve spoke up, “Thanks for doing this.”_

_Howard looked toward the sky, “I really wish I wasn’t.”_

_Steve opens his mouth and Howard flashes him a look, “If you say ‘I’m sorry’ to me again, Rogers, I swear to god-”_

_Steve closes his mouth and Howard leans forward on the console, feeling just a little ill. The omega swallows thickly, “Don’t tell me you’re sorry. Tell me you're coming back.” Howard lifted his head and met blue eyes that made his stomach flip._

_Steve is looking at him like Howard is everything he wants and Howard desperately wants that to be true. He reaches for one of Steve’s hands, “Swear to me... Swear you’ll come back to me, Steve Rogers. Swear it.”_

_Steve’s gaze softens and he reaches forward to run the pads of his fingers across Howard’s cheek. Howard’s eyes flutter shut against the onslaught of emotion and he leans into the touch. Howard swallows thickly and opens his eyes to meet the other's._

_“Howard, I-”_

_Howard’s gaze doesn’t leave much room for the blond to argue with him. Steve cups his cheek and his eyes are only on the omega’s,“I swear.”_

_Howard’s lips quirk into a crooked smile, “Good, then you can kiss me when you get back, Soldier.”_

_“Steve, we need to get you ready for the jump,” Peggy’s voice calls unapologetically from not too far away._

_Steve squeezes his hand once before releasing Howard’s cheek and standing, “I will.” He promises with a heated look before turning to Peggy._

_Howard believes him._

_\---_

_Howard accompanies Peggy to go face Colonel Phillips. He stands frozen in the entrance of the tent, heart slamming against his chest as he listens to the colonel dictate a condolence letter on behalf of Steve Rogers. He watches partly detached when he sends the typist away and turns to face them._

_The omega listens with half an ear as the man states gruffly that he can’t touch Howard, referencing his amount of money and weapons contract with the army. He rounds on Carter. The woman has never disappointed Howard with her bravery or stubbornness and she doesn’t fail to now. Howard listens to her say she has no regrets, even as it feels like there is a hundred pound weight on his chest._

_“What about you, Stark? Have some regrets? Sure as hell looks like it.” The man levels him with a glare before returning to Carter, “What makes you think I give a damn about your opinions. I took a chance with you, Agent Carter. And now America’s Golden Boy and a lot of good men are dead cuz you had a crush.”_

_Howard sputters at that and the colonel raises a brow at him, “Got something to say, Stark?”_

_Howard glares at him, “Yes, I damn well do!” He growls, having enough of Alphas with their head up their ass underestimating him, “Agent Carter didn’t do what she did because she had a ‘crush’ and I didn’t pilot that damn jet into an active war zone because Steve Rogers is my_ **_soulmate_ ** _either,” Howard snaps as he steps menacingly toward the colonel. He doesn’t give a second thought for consequences, so raised is his ire._

_He registers the surprise on the man’s face at Howard’s reveal. Peggy steps up next to Howard, a hand on his arm to stop the omega from punching the colonel. Peggy was always fairly decent at discerning what Howard was thinking and she didn’t disappoint. She picked up for Howard, “It wasn’t any of that, Colonel. We had faith.”_

_The man levels them both with a scrutinizing look, “Well, I hope that’s a big comfort to the two of you, when they shut this division down.”_

_The action outside catches the man’s attention and he heads outside without a second look at either one of them. Peggy and Howard rush outside as well, unsure of what to expect. They follow the colonel to where all the men are gathered and Howard's breath catches, because there at the front of a large group of men, is Steve fucking Rogers, standing tall._

_The accompaniment walks silently through the crowd while all of the men clap and make noise at the sight of their missing brothers in arms. Rogers heads straight for the colonel, of which Howard and Peggy are still standing directly behind._

_Rogers salutes, “Some of these men need medical attention,” he informs before adding, “I’d like to surrender myself for disciplinary action.”_

_The colonel looks him over and Howard’s heart is thundering in his ears. Phillips finally returns, “That won't be necessary.”_

_Rogers thanks him before the Colonel faces both Howard and Peggy. He raises a brow at the both of them, “Faith, huh?” He questions before departing._

_Peggy pushes Howard toward the Captain and the omega brings his shoulders back before meeting Steve’s eyes, “You’re late.”_

_Steve pulls the radio out of his pocket, showing off the busted bit of technology, “Couldn’t call my ride.”_

_Howard levels him with an unimpressed look. Steve steps into his space, “I came back, just like I swore I would.”_

_Howard’s lips quirk, “I see that.”_

_“I seem to remember you promising me something if I did.”_

_Howard raises a brow, “I remember. What are you going to do about it, soldier?”_

_Steve steps into his space and for Howard, the world stops. Steve pauses a few bare inches before connecting their mouths, “May I?” he breaths. Howard can feel the heat of his breath._

_The omega was a lot of things, but he wasn’t known for his patience. Howard closes the distance without a word, his breath catching in his throat at the electric buzz that accompanies the action. He lets out an undignified squeak when the Captain tugs the engineer firmly against his chest and wraps him up in his arms. Distantly, Howard can hear the catcalls and whistles and cheers. His mind is quiet for once though and the heat that settles over him has nothing to do with the hot June sun._

_For a moment, in the middle of the camp and kissing his soulmate like his life depends on it, Howard thinks everything just might turn out alright._

_When they break after a small eternity, Steve is grinning at him and Howard is grinning breathlessly back._

_A soldier Howard assumes is Barnes calls at the crowd, “Hey! Let’s hear it for Captain America!”_

_Howard doesn’t hear the cheers or even notice anyone else. He’s stuck on Steve’s beaming smile._

* * *

Howard hadn’t realized seeing Steve again would be so damn hard. 

After the comment about dancing, Steve and he had just sat there. So far apart, yet so close. There were a thousand things Howard wanted to say but the words wouldn’t come to him. Steve seems to decide something and the blond takes a few caution steps toward him.

“How are you feeling?”

Howard blinks up at him before focusing on the question, “Sore,” his voice is hoarse and he swallows before adding, “Morphine’s mostly doing its job, though.”

Steve doesn’t lift his gaze from Howard as he carefully sits in the chair Tony had vacated. They descend into silence once more before Howard’s had enough of this awkward thing. They should not be awkward. Howard has a bond-mark on his neck that promises they should be a lot of things, but awkward isn’t one of them.

“You missed our date, Rogers.” Howard tried, subtlety had never been one of his strong points.

Steve smiles weakly, “I don’t suppose I could ask for another rain-check then?”

Howard swallows, running his eyes over the blond, “That depends.”

“On?”

“Are you going to break it again?” Despite himself, Howard’s voice carries a tremor and his eyes are wet.

“Oh, sweetheart,” Steve sighs, scooting the chair closer. He carefully picks up Howard’s hand and holds it tightly between two warm palms. He bends his head to kiss the brunet’s knuckles lovingly. “I’m so sorry.”

Steve’s voice is choked with a thousand things neither of them could even begin to say but Howard hears it all nevertheless. He reaches out his other hand to caress the alpha’s cheek and Steve lifts his gaze to lock with Howard's. The buzz that accompanies the touch is one that Howard’s ached for. 

Howard finds his voice, “You’re late.”

Steve’s smile upticks as he leans into Howard’s hand, “Couldn’t call my ride,” he echoes a distant memory. Howard wants to hit him and kiss him simultaneously.

Steve seems to read that on his face, “I came back, just like I swore I would.” 

Howard laughs bitterly, even as he’s leaning toward the alpha, “Just sixty-four years late, huh?”

Steve gives him a soft, endearing look that squeezes Howard’s heart painfully in his chest. It’s asking for something and Howard has never been able to resist Steve. It’s one of those universally known things. The earth is round, the sun rises and sets each day, and Howard Stark has never been able to say no to Steve Rogers.

The omega caves and adds a quiet, “I see that.”

Steve’s eyes are damp and his face is slightly flushed. He doesn’t look any different than he did that day and if Howard tries hard enough, he can almost imagine the two of them there in the center of that camp with Howard being so relieved he could barely stand and Steve beaming so beautifully at him. The blond does so now despite the tear that drips off an eyelash, “I seem to remember you promising me something if I did.” 

The blond's voice is hoarse and Howard swallows thickly. This rehash of a conversation they had had decades ago means more than just the words. It’s an apology and forgiveness wrapped all in one. It’s simultaneously picking back up where they left off and starting anew. It’s letting Steve back in and trusting him not to break his heart like he’d done all those years ago, despite the blond's good intentions.

Steve had had the best of reasons for doing what he’d done but it still had broken Howard in every way possible. He’d fought like hell to get here. He’d fought the depression that weighed him down and the suicidal thoughts that scratched and dug just below the surface. The urge of a soulmate to follow their other half into the maw of death. Sure, Howard had been so set on not believing it, but that didn’t mean that some part of his innermost thoughts hadn’t.

Steve was here now. The alpha was at his bedside holding his hand and waiting patiently for Howard. He was still smiling at the omega, though the expression was filled with grief and insecurity. Like he thought Howard was going to kick him out any moment.

Like that was possible for the omega. 

This was the man he loved. This was the man he’d gone through hell and back for. The alpha he had worked himself into the ground sixty years ago trying to keep safe. The soldier he’d crept into bed with whenever they got a moment's peace. The man he’d given his heart to and the alpha he’d left mark his neck permanently. 

This was the man who’d taken care of his son, their son, when Howard was a million miles away held prisoner. The man who’d held his Tony through panic attacks and wiped his tears. The man who hadn’t stopped looking for Howard as surely as the omega had never stopped looking for Steve. The man who Tony called Dad and Steve beamed like it was the greatest gift every time the boy did so. 

A man who’d saved Howard from hell and stuck by his bedside till he woke.

The man Howard had lived for, fought for, with the just the slightest hope he’d see him again.

Howard raises a brow, “I remember. What are you going to do about it, soldier?”

Steve beams at him, catching and holding the hand Howard had on Steve’s cheek. Steve swallowed thickly before shifting forward. Howard lifts his head with a little bit of effort and Steve pauses, a few inches from Howard’s mouth. His breath fans Howard’s face and the omega feels tears building.

“May I?” The man asks breathlessly, eyes wet and whispered voice broken with emotion.

_The omega was a lot of things, but he wasn’t known for his patience._

Howard leans forward just a bit and their lips brush gently. His stomach flips and Steve shifts forward to free his hands and cradle Howard’s face as he kisses him heartrendingly slowly. The omega’s heart slams against his rib-cage and he kisses the blond back gently, closing his eyes as a tear slips down his cheek.

Steve breaks the kiss to brush the tear away, but stays in his space, breathing the same air as Howard. Howard struggles for air and words, “I missed you,” he breathes.

Steve swallows thickly and rubs their noses together affectionately, “I love you, Howard Stark. Always have and always will.”

Howard’s lips quirk up into a heartbreaking imitation of the smile that had graced his mouth when the omega had first heard those words, “I love you too, you idiot. God help me, but I do.”

Steve chuckles quietly and leans forward to kiss him again.

  
  


* * *

Tony takes his sweet time. He’s no fool and he’s well aware that his parents need to have a moment alone. Honestly, they probably need a lot more than a moment but Tony’s not that selfless.

His trip down to the cafeteria is mostly a quiet one at this time of night, or should he say morning. The clock on the wall announces the time as 12:15 am. To his surprise, Clint Barton is sitting at one of the tables, picking at some hospital food.

“Blue Jay?”

The man’s face lifts immediately and he frowns at Tony. “Blue Jay? Really, Mini-Cap?"

Tony rolls his eyes and slides onto the bench across the table from Clint, “What'cha doin' here, Legolas?"

Clint rubs a hand up and down his face. “Couldn’t sleep. Thought I'd come check on you and Cap but you were sleeping.”

Tony nods before stealing an apple off the archer’s plate. The man levels him a look but doesn’t take it back. Tony bites into it thoughtfully, “My mom’s awake.”

Clint blinks, “That’s great, kid! What are you doing down here then?”

Tony shrugged, “I got my turn while Cap was asleep. Figured I’d give my parents a private moment.”

Clint frowns at him, looking flabbergasted. He pauses a moment before scoffing and shaking his head, “Man does the media have you all wrong.”

Tony tips his head in an unspoken question.

Clint continues, “They make you out to be this spoiled rich kid of some know-it-all omega. They call you selfish and entitled and not knowing the meaning of hard work.”

There's a pause here and Tony could interject but he has a feeling that Clint isn’t looking for him to do so and isn’t quite finished. He’s proven right when the man meets his curious gaze and smiles wryly at him, “I was all set to hate you, you know. When SHIELD handed me your file. Fury was already talking about the Avengers Initiative and Nat and I were up to join you and your mom.”

Tony nods. He'd already known this.

The archer takes a bite of his salad, “I’d heard of you before. Who hasn’t? I didn’t even bother with your file. Was set to hate you both on sight, even when Nat said the media got you wrong. You… it was like you had everything you’ve ever wanted from the moment you were born and I…”

Tony waited as he bit into his apple.

“I grew up in a circus. My parents died when I was little and I’ve had to do a lot I’m not proud of to get by. So I wasn’t… very kind to you or your mother in my head. And I… well I’m sorry. You’re like one of the least selfish kids I know. You flew a bomb through a portal thinking you were never coming back. And you just left your mother, who you haven’t seen in months, and your father who you just got back in your life, to give them some privacy. You- you-”

Tony reached across the table and took one of Clint’s hands in his smaller ones, “Don’t apologize.”

Clint opened his mouth and Tony shook his head, “First of all, it’s not like you even said anything to me or treated me differently than anyone else. So you thought some non-charitable things about two people you only knew by their public reputation. Gee golly whiz, Clint, I bet you're the first one to do that.”

Clint deflated and Tony smiled.

“Besides, I am selfish,” The boy insisted. Clint narrowed his eyes at him.

“Before Afghanistan,” Tony tapped the glass casing of his arc reactor, “Before this. All I cared about was school and Rhodey and sneaking out with him to go try and get into the **Gran Torino** premier without my mom knowing. I was pissy because I was a twelve year old in high school and still hadn’t been kissed. I was frustrated that everyone looked down on me because of my age. The day before my mom was set to go on that demonstration in Afghanistan I got into a big blow out argument with him because he wouldn’t take me with him. I had barely seen him in two weeks because he was so busy with work and I got mad and angry…” Tony looked away.

“Kid, you were twelve. Cut yourself some slack.”

Tony shook his head, “I wasn’t supposed to be there. I snuck aboard his private jet. They didn’t find me till we touched down in the country. Mom wanted to make me stay in the plane but I was so angry and selfish and… I yelled. I told him that I hated him and that I wished dad were here instead.”

Clint didn’t dare breathe, the archer was so still. Tony looked up, blinking back tears. “So mom loaded me in the stupid Humvee with him. I tried to apologize, to talk to him but mom wouldn’t hear a word of it. He just ignored me and talked to the soldiers in the jeep. He took selfies with them and I was angry and sad and just… selfish.”

“Tony-"

“Then the explosions hit.”

Tony looked down at his hands as he wrung them quietly, “The soldiers all left the car to go deal with what was going on. Mom told me to stay put, but I didn’t listen. I saw from the window one of the men grabbed him and I panicked. I ran outside and one of the missiles Mom designed landed at my feet.”

Clint stood and walked around the table to slip onto the bench next to Tony. He slung an arm around Tony’s shoulders. Tony doesn’t move, “He had to perform surgery on me in a dirty cave with another prisoner to keep me alive. I had shrapnel lodged near my heart from the missile.” 

Tony swallowed, “Put an electromagnet in my chest hooked to a battery. They waterboarded him for two days and he spat in their faces, told them to go to hell. They started in on me and he broke in an hour.”

Tony was wringing his hands now. He’d only told the story in completion to his father, and he’d never told Dad about the fight with his mom.

“He told them he’d build the missile and tore apart missile after missile to get enough palladium to build me a mini arc reactor to replace the car battery. Then we built the Mark I. The first suit. Meant to get us all out of there, powered by the arc reactor in my chest. I kept… I kept trying to apologize-or to even just talk to him. You know what my mom said?"

“What?”

“He kissed my head and told me I could tell him when we got out of here, because we **were** getting the hell out of here. Then he and Yinsen, the other prisoner, buckled me into the suit. Yinsen left to buy us more time and I cleared the path for us out of the camp. Carried my mom out of the explosion and flew us the hell out of there. My uncle Nick found us in the middle of the desert a while later.”

Clint huffed and leaned against Tony quietly. The kid sighed and pressed his head against Clint’s collar bone, “So, I’m selfish.”

Clint tipped the boy’s head back to meet Tony’s gaze, “Kid,” he swallowed, “We’re all a little selfish. It’s who you are besides that that matters and, you…” He smiled, “You’re good, Tony. Don’t let anyone else ever tell you otherwise. Including me.”

Tony met the archer’s gaze, “So are you, Clint-”

Clint shook his head, “Tony- I’ve done-”

The boy shook his head, “It doesn’t matter what you’ve done, Clint. I told my mom, a man who’s literally done everything for me my whole life, that I wished my dad was here instead of him because I wasn’t getting my way.”

Clint shook his head, “Tony, you were- are- just a kid and that’s not-”

“It is, Clint.”

Hawkeye fell silent for a moment and Tony shifted to face him. “It doesn’t matter what you’ve done, Clint. I was the son of the ‘Merchant of Death.’ They used to call me ‘Grim’s Kid’ and a thousand other less flattering names. Whatever red you think you have in your ledger doesn’t matter.”

“Tony-”

Tony sat a little straighter and looked the archer in the eyes, “We’re all a little selfish. It’s who you are besides that that matters, and you. You’re good, Clint Barton. Don't let anyone ever tell you otherwise. Including me.”

* * *

The door clicked open for the second time in the last hour and Steve breathed a sigh of relief when Tony stepped in. The light from the hall cast a halo of light around the boy and Tony spared him a smile.

Once the doctors had looked over Howard and done a few neurological tests, they deemed the omega to be out of the woods. Howard, who Steve was just as effective saying no to as was the omega with him, had dragged the Alpha up onto the hospital bed. 

It had taken them quite a bit of shuffling and adjusting and Steve felt guilty every time Howard winced, but when they finally settled Howard’s smile was worth it. They barely fit like this with Howard tucked into Steve’s side, laying with his head on Steve’s chest and a leg thrown over one of his, but they managed.

Tony saw them and rolled his eyes, “Am I gonna end up one of those kids who has to constantly tell his parents they're traumatizing him?” asked the boy, though his tone gave up the game. Tony had a small smile on his face and his tone was teasing.

At the sound of their son’s voice, Howard shifted urgently to meet the boy's gaze. “Tony!” exclaimed the omega, “What took you so long?”

Tony stepped all the way in and shut the door behind him. “Ran into Clint.”

“The archer that helped you with New York?” clarified Howard.

Steve frowned, “How do you know about that?”

Tony walked toward them, “I told him, while you were sleeping. Caught him up on everything he’s missed.”

Steve blinked but smiled as Howard reached for Tony automatically. The boy eyed the bed dubiously, “That thing is barely holding you both. It’s not gonna take me.”

Howard raised a brow, “Are you my son or some sort of doppelganger. My kid has never faced a problem he couldn’t solve.”

Tony met his gaze evenly before rolling his eyes at what he saw there. Steve watched with a curious look as Tony moved the hospital chair out of the way. He pushed the other bed over to them after lowering one side’s rails. The boy dug through a few drawers with no regard for social niceties and somehow fashioned something to link the two beds together.

Howard watched him the entire time from the lop of Steve’s arms and didn’t seem surprised in the slightest. Tony straightened and dusted his knees off where he’d been kneeling. He leveled his parents with an expectant look.

“What are you waiting for? Move over.” instructed the boy. 

Steve rolled his eyes but indulged his child and mate without a word. He carefully moved himself and Howard over so they we a little more on the other bed too. Tony waited a quiet moment while they adjusted before slipping onto the beds as well. He adjusted the blankets and turned his body so he was curled into Steve’s other side with a leg thrown over Steve’s leg, pressing firmly against Howard's. The boy found his mother’s hand and carefully laid his head on his father’s chest without a word.

Steve hummed and wrapped his other arm around Tony possessively. He nuzzled both brunet heads and kissed two temples accordingly, rumbling his satisfaction with the resonance of his sub-vocals. 

Howard purred and ran his thumb over Tony’s knuckles where he grasped the boy’s hand tightly and Tony buried his face into Steve’s chest. 

For the first time, the whole of the little family fell asleep tucked into the safety of each other’s arms.

  
  



	13. Jailbreak

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> They were silent in the elevator, still worried someone might catch them just yet. No one in the lobby paid them a second glance, so distracted were they by the mini-crisis going on the fourth floor. Only when they were in a cab heading home did Tony stop looking over his shoulder.
> 
> It took nearly an hour to return to Stark Tower, there no one paid them any mind as they used the private elevator outside. 
> 
> “Welcome home, sir!” greeted Jarvis enthusiastically once they were all settled into the lift and headed to the penthouse suite.
> 
> Howard smiled and listed tiredly into Steve’s side, “It’s good to be home, buddy.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi! Um... I know I kinda vanished on you guys. Well, I caught the plague and was actually in the hospital on a ventilator for a bit, but I'm all good now and back! So apologies for the long hiatus. But I will complete this story. A chapter a day might be a bit ambitious for me now though. I get very tired easily and am still recovering. It's probably gonna be more like a chapter a week or two. I hope you all are staying healthy and had a great thanksgiving. If you're still with me, thanks for being here. And thank you all for the kind reviews, kudos, and bookmarks!
> 
> This chapter is a little short. Just trying to get back into the swing of things and battling some mild writers block. If you have any ideas, I'm all ears!

_“Whatcha workin’ on?” Piped up a familiar voice closer than he was expecting. Howard jumped, nailing his head on some long hanging equipment over his worktable. He turned, hands resting on the table behind him as he leaned against it. He lifted his chin to meet familiar baby blues that sent a shiver down his spine._

_“I- um… tinkering, actually. Nothing special… yet.” He rubbed the back of his neck with one of his hands. Steve glanced over the worktable, but seemed more interested in Howard himself. The omega smiled shyly at the Captain._

_“You weren’t at the bar,” Steve observed, “Peggy said you were supposed to be there.” He raised a brow in question at the engineer. Howard flushed before glancing back at his worktop._

_“I- uh- got a little distracted.” He glanced at the clock, “I didn’t know it was that late,” he admitted with some chagrin. “Did you convince your team?”_

_Steve smiled shyly, “Uh, yeah. I don’t know why, but they’re in. God knows they deserve a break,” he muttered._

_Howard shrugged, “You’re a hard man to say no to.”_

_Steve blinked owlishly at Howard, “I am?”_

_Howard chuckled and stepped into Steve’s bubble, “You really are oblivious of the effect you have on people?”_

_“I have an effect?”_

_“Quite.”_

_Steve met Howard’s hypnotic gaze, and the engineer dusted off the lapels of the Captain’s jacket, “It’s probably a good thing you don’t know you’re doing it. ‘Else I’d be doomed.” the engineer laughed. Steve touched his cheek._

_Howard held his breath, and Steve leaned in to kiss him. The engineer slipped his arms around the man’s neck and leaned into him as they kissed. It made his head spin and his brain turn to goo. When the soldier broke the kiss, Howard rested his forehead against his soulmate’s and breathed out, “I’m coming with you.”_

_“What?” Steve blinked, taking a step back. Howard followed him slightly, wrists still crossed behind the blond’s head._

_“Colonel Phillips okayed it. Your team needs equipment. I’m the best for that. Pretty good at intel, too. Coordinating with Carter on that.” Howard dropped his loose grip on Steve and the Captain looked torn._

_“Is that a good idea?”_

_Howard frowned, “I thought you’d want me to go with you-”_

_“I do!”_

_“Then what-?”_

_“It’s…” the blond trailed off and Howard frowned._

_“What?” questioned Howard._

_“It’s dangerous.”_

_Howard snorted, turning back to the worktable. “I was a part of the war effort long before you got here, Rogers. If it’s not your team, I’d be doing the same thing somewhere else.”_

_Steve stepped up to the worktable next to him, looking confused. “I thought you just-”_

_“Stayed here? Safe back at camp? I might not hold a gun like the rest of you, but need I remind you I’m one of the best pilots they’ve got. I’m more useful making equipment, but I’ve been in the thick of it before.” he raised a brow at the Alpha._

_Steve looked equal parts worried and relieved at the news._

_Howard turned to face him, “Unless you’d rather I go support some other team? I thought you wanted-”_

_Steve cut him off with a pointed kiss. Howard allowed it, relaxing into the alpha’s embrace. It was something he’d never tire of. When they broke, Steve rested his forehead against the omega’s._

_“Of course I want you there. You’re my soulmate. It’s just that-”_

_Howard interrupted, “Good. We have already decided it. Now, let’s talk about equipment, Captain.” He walked further into his workshop and the alpha follow without hesitation. Howard gestured to the flag-painted shield that Steve had gone into battle with._

_“Heard you were attached.”_

_Steve nodded at him eagerly as he came around the table, “It’s handier than you might think.”_

_Howard gestured to a table full of prototype shields, “I took the liberty of coming up with some options. This one’s fun. I have fitted her with electrical relays that-”_

_“What about this one?” Steve reached for the prototype half-hidden underneath the table._

_“No, no, no.” Howard hurried over to him, a hand on the Alpha’s forearm. He met blue eyes before continuing, “That’s just a prototype.”_

_“What’s it made of?”_

_“Vibranium.” The engineer sighed, already foreseeing where this was going, “It’s stronger than steel and a third of the weight.” He watched the soldier toy with the shield, testing its weight. Howard continued, “It’s completely vibration absorbent.”_

_Steve met his gaze again, gesturing with the shield and already attached to it, “How come it’s not a standard issue?”_

_Howard chuckled, rubbing the back of his neck and leaning against a worktable, “That’s the rarest metal on earth. What you’re holding there,” he indicated to the shield, “That’s all we’ve got.”_

_He already knew from the look in Steve’s eyes the shield would be his.  
_

  
_  
_

* * *

Howard ran a reverent hand over the red, white and blue piece of vibranium as he sat up in the hospital bed, fingers tracing indents from when the piece of gear had saved the Alpha’s life. He glanced up at just the right time to meet Tony’s gaze from where he stood, leaning against the frame.

“I told Dad he needed an upgrade.” The boy informed as he pushed off from the frame and walked nonchalantly toward his mother.

“Suit probably does. This shield though…” Howard agreed as he spun the piece of Vibranium through his hands. “I don't think we can improve on vibranium quite yet.”

Tony sat on the edge of the bed, watching his mother and the play of light as it bounced off the metal. “Dad said you wanted to talk to me? Alone?” He questioned, trying hard to keep the curiosity from being too clear in his voice.

Howard met the teenager’s gaze before setting the shield down in his lap. He looked the boy over with a serious expression until Tony squirmed beneath the heaviness of the silence that came with his gaze.

“Alright, Tony.” He sat up further in bed and leaned forward toward his son, “I need you to spring me.”

Tony blinked, that wasn’t what he’d been expecting. The boy raised a brow, “Didn’t you tell me a long time ago that ‘the doctors know what they’re doing and will let you go when it’s time?’”

Howard huffed, running a frustrated hand through his brunet locks. “Yeah, well, I was wrong. I’ve been ready for nearly a week. I want out, so I called in the hospital breakout specialist.”

Tony snorted, lips curving into a telling grin, “Oh, really? The great Howard Stark, wrong?”

“Just this once. I concede to your mastery in Hospital springing. Oh, bless me with your knowledge, great one.”

Tony giggled and crossed his arms, “Flattery will get you only so far, young padawan.” 

Howard released a long-suffering sigh. “And if I offer you one free get out of jail card?”

“Am I hiding this from Fury?”

“Preferably.”

“Make it three!”

Howard nodded solemnly, shaking his son’s hand in agreement, and they struck a deal.

  
  
  


* * *

“Will these do?” Inquired Steve as he opened the door to the room with an armful of clothes. As Tony had instructed, they were nothing flashy or overly formal. A tan t-shirt with a black button down and a set of worn looking jeans that Howard usually wore only when he was working in the lab.

Tony looked through all the clothes and nodded, passing them back to his mother. It took Howard a bit of time and Steve’s help, but he was soon ready. Tony closed all the shutters, before snagging the ‘Do Not Disturb’ sign and slipping it on the doorknob. 

“Ready?” he glanced at his parents. Steve helped the other male back onto his feet and took his hand. The two made completely sure they were ready before turning to Tony and nodding.

The boy took a breath and his eyes flared electric blue as the lights flickered and died outside the room. There was a lovely bit of chaos outside while nurses fluttered to check that life saving equipment was still working (of course it was, Tony wasn’t a monster) and in the chaos, Tony and his parents slipped perfectly undetected out of Howard's hospital room and down the hall.

They were silent in the elevator, still worried someone might catch them just yet. No one in the lobby paid them a second glance, so distracted were they by the mini-crisis occuring on the fourth floor. Only when they were in a cab heading home did Tony stop looking over his shoulder.

It took nearly an hour to return to Stark Tower, there no one paid them any mind as they used the private elevator outside. 

“Welcome home, sir!” greeted Jarvis enthusiastically once they were all settled into the lift and headed to the penthouse suite.

Howard smiled and listed tiredly into Steve’s side, “It’s good to be home, buddy.”

The elevator let them out on their home floor and Steve hesitated only a moment before sweeping the omega up and carrying him bridal style to the door of his and Tony’s home.

Howard cried out, squirming in the blonds arms, “Steve! I can walk!”

Steve snorted and raised a brow at Tony, “I don’t know, Tony. Your mom seems exhausted. You think he can walk?”

Tony giggled behind his palm, shaking his head. 

Howard glared at Tony. “Traitor!” he huffed, which only succeeded in forcing the boy into another fit of giggles.

The boy's high spirits were in part because of his father’s antics, but mostly because he was going home. To _his_ home. With his _father_ and his _mother_. It was every childhood dream come to life for him. He had both of them back when a few months ago he had neither. 

Sure, his mother had used to hold him and rock him and promise him all of this, and Tony had steadfastly believed him but going home with his father’s arm wrapped loosely around his shoulders and his mother sticking his tongue out at him from the safety of his Alpha’s arms was like something from some seasonal special Tony used to watch as a kid.

So with a giggle and a hop to his steps, Tony eagerly wrenched the door open. He nearly jumped out of his skin and heard his father growl a little upon the discovery that they were not alone.

“Surprise!”

* * *

“Barton?” Nick Fury frowned in confusion as he pushed open the door to Howard’s hospital room and instead found the archer lying in the bed tossing an apple up and down.

“Hey, Fury! Good to see you. How’s the weather? Anything new happening?” He uncrossed his legs and sat up on the edge of the bed. 

“Clint,” growled the alpha, “I’m only gonna ask this once. Where’s Howard, Steve and Tony?”

“Who?” asked the beta playfully.

The archer stood and nonchalantly tossed the apple toward Fury. Nick juggled the apple for a split second in an attempt to catch it, before realizing just what he was doing and tossed it in the trash. He turned back to Barton only to watch him head for the door.

“Clint!”

“Oh, chill your roll, Nick. They noped the hell outta here about two hours ago.” Clint huffed, rolling his eyes and opening the door.

“Howard was released?! Why didn’t anyone call me?”

Hawkeye snorted, “I said nothing about him being released.” He stepped outside the room, ignoring the threats and demands of the man behind him in favor of heading for the elevator. 

He had a party to attend.


	14. No More Stars

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Seems like you got something on your mind, kid. Penny for your thoughts?” hummed Clint, leaning against the counter casually despite his curiosity being piqued. 
> 
> “Oh, I don’t know. I think they’re worth a bit more than a penny, Robin.”
> 
> The man made a face, “Robin? Come on, brat! I know you’re more original than that.”
> 
> Tony continued on as if he hadn’t heard his companion interrupt, “Inflation and all that should make them at least a couple dollars. Add on the fact that I’m a Stark and… well, I don’t know if you can afford those prices.”
> 
> The archer snorted before pushing away from the counter and off the barstool, “Alright then, precious. Then I’ll just be moseying on along…” 
> 
> Clint only took a few steps away from the boy before Tony spoke up again, stopping him in his tracks.
> 
> “What would you say about moving in?”

“Surprise!” 

The chant knocked Tony off kilter, having expected a dark and quiet apartment. He didn't realize what was going on until his hands reached halfway into a fighting position. 

A mere thought on Tony’s part had the penthouse’s interface open before his eyes, Jarvis granting him the access and information he was looking for. A sweep of cameras gave him a head count and confirmed a lack of danger. He released a breath he hadn’t known he was holding and dropped the music down a few decibels and flashed the lights before dimming them.

The subtle humming sounded from behind him; the alpha growled, instinctively on guard for the threat he perceived against his mate and pup, with whom he had only recently been reunited. Tony took a half-step in front of his parents, one hand coming up to rest in the crook of his father’s arm. He hummed softly and felt his father relax beneath his fingers.

Howard barely seemed startled at all, so used to this kind of thing was he that he didn’t even flinch. He shifted his weight in Steve’s arms and the Alpha reflexively let him down, though he kept one muscular arm wrapped securely around his mate’s waist.

Their visitors seemed to have realized the error in startling the only recently reunited family, and the noise level immediately dropped.

“Stand down, _Antosha_. Just your friends. No harm.” The purr of a familiar tone had Tony’s shoulder’s dropping and his posture relaxing. His eyes fixed on the familiar redhead standing just out of range and leaning against a nearby wall.

She pushed off the wall and approached the family, bumping the Captain’s side with her shoulder lightly. The alpha immediately relaxed, stormy blues softening on the sight of his teammate. 

“Nat. What’s all this?” questioned the soldier. 

She smiled, “Homecoming.” 

The familiar redhead approached Howard, offering a well-manicured hand, “Welcome home, Stark.”

Howard gently stepped forward from his alpha, displaying all the confidence expected of him, “And what a homecoming it is.” He raised his voice to the rest of the room that was still half hidden behind various pieces of furniture, “Thank you all for coming. Sorry, we’re just still a little on edge.”

There was the easy rumble of a handful of voices agreeing with Howard’s reasoning, and the tension flowed out of the room as easily as it had built.

Steve stepped up to stand with his son, slipping an arm around the boy’s shoulders. The Captain’s voice was only a little off kilter as he frowned at the spy, “How did you find out we were coming home?” He succeeded in only sounding a little suspicious.

The spy offered a saccharine smile and winked at Tony, “I have my ways.”

* * *

“Mini-cap,” greeted the archer, shifting into the spot Rhodey had just vacated. Tony glanced sideways at the blond with a twitch of his lips.

“Was wondering when you’d show up, Lark.”

“You just gonna slowly work your way through every bird name?”

“Not quite.” Tony turned on his barstool, palms resting flat on the kitchen counter island. The cool marble beneath his skin served as a tangible reminder that he was home, safe, where he belonged. 

“Oh?” Clint cocked his head as he slipped onto the barstool beside the young genius. The dull hum of conversations and laughter around him served to both sooth the man and put him on edge. 

“Won’t catch me using ‘hawk,’” returned the boy, a smirk twisting his lips. Clint swiftly shoved him off the barstool and Tony’s laughter filled the room.

Around them, the boy’s friends and family occupied different areas of the great room. On the couch were both of Tony’s parents, sides pressed together, tellingly and the captain’s arm slung around Howard’s shoulders. The engineer was engaged in a calm conversation with his best friend, Pepper, as the woman perched gracefully on the edge of a cushion. Steve’s attention was being held by The Black Widow, who leaned casually on the arm of the couch.

Rhodey was in the kitchen with his mother. His voice carried slightly as he excitedly babbled on while his mother, Roberta, poured herself a drink.

Dr. Banner was holding a conversation with Happy near the door, the scientist animated as he moved his hands with his explanation.

Tony preferred a small, intimate party, which was why he climbed back onto his barstool and gently shoved the archer back. The man made a quiet noise as he almost fell off the stool as he nearly fell off himself.

“Watch it, super kid. We’re not all something special like you.”

Tony snorted, rolling his eyes. He fully settled on the barstool once more, leaning on his elbows as he regarded the man out of the corner of his eye.

“Seems like you got something on your mind, kid. Penny for your thoughts?” hummed Clint, leaning against the counter casually despite his curiosity being piqued. 

“Oh, I don’t know. I think they’re worth a bit more than a penny, Robin.”

The man made a face, “Robin? Come on, brat! I know you’re more original than that.”

Tony continued on as if he hadn’t heard his companion interrupt, “Inflation and all that should make them at least a couple dollars. Add on the fact that I’m a Stark and… well, I don’t know if you can afford those prices.”

The archer snorted before pushing away from the counter and off the barstool, “Alright then, precious. Then I’ll just be moseying on along…” 

Clint only took a few steps away from the boy before Tony spoke up again, stopping him in his tracks.

“What would you say about moving in?”

It actually didn’t take as much convincing as Tony had thought it would when he and his mother had sat in that hospital bed sketching out tentative plans for Stark Tower to become The Avengers Tower.

Steve was the easiest to convince, as he already unofficially lived there. Tony didn’t know when his parents hashed that out, but he was very glad no one was stupid enough to have the soldier living somewhere else or on a different floor. Steve would room with Howard, on their floor, where he belonged.

The troublesome part would be the others, whom were Tony’s teammates but weren’t really properly friends. Tony thought it would take the three of them days, maybe weeks, to convince the rest of them, but he was wrong.

Clint had slipped casually back on to his barstool and had tipped his head in question. That was all it took to launch Tony into a tirade. The teenager bounced excitedly and gesture wildly with his hands as he babbled on about their plans for floors and communal rooms and gyms and so forth. He was so excited that he attracted the attention of the other occupants in the room, and before long he had been surrounded by the rest of the Avengers.

The Rhodes, Pepper, and Happy slipped out of the apartment with fond grins on their faces, very familiar with how the two Starks got when they had an idea in their head.

As Tony’s explanation got more animated, Howard had joined in and even Steve had piped up a time or two. It didn't take long before they spread floor plans across the counter, and before the other heroes knew what they were doing, they started interrupting and offering their opinions.

After all, when the young genius turned his baby blues on them, backed by both his eager looking parents, how could they have ever said no?

* * *

“Tony?”

The boy in question dropped a small tool which rang with finality, as his head snapped up from where his hands carefully crafted the segment of armor. 

It had been a long day, coming home from the hospital and the impromptu party had taken a lot out of the small family. The three of them had all gone to bed with little fuss. Or Tony had lain in his bed for all of an hour before slipping down to the safety and quiet of his lab.

“Mom?” The question comes out nervously because he knows how this looks. There are energy drinks and snacks scattered throughout the workshop. If the pink coming through the windows is any sign, he may have been here all night, and he doesn’t need a mirror to recognize he probably looks like a mess.

Howard runs a critical eye over the boy, taking in the mused hair, bloodshot eyes, and all. He doesn’t say a word, merely crossing the room to stand on the other side of the workbench. The engineer glances over his son’s work.

Tony swallows thickly as his mother traces the iconic silver star in the middle of what is slowly becoming a prototype for his father’s suit. The suit was a navy blue, utilitarian-style with a Kevlar-based ballistic component that could protect Captain America and still provide the man much needed flexibility. Howard’s fingers trace the careful stitching and the soldered together bits before coming to rest on where Tony was currently working.

Howard meets his gaze thoughtfully, “Electromagnetics?”

Tony blinked before nodding quickly, running his own fingers over the gauntlets where he was painstakingly fitting the panels. “Thought it might make handling the shield easier…” The boy trailed off, as if waiting for his mother to lecture at any moment.

The man doesn’t do any of that. He uses a clever foot to pull a rolling work stool over and sit beside Tony. He picks up a tool without saying a word and quietly installs the plating in the gauntlet furthest from Tony.

The boy pauses, considering for a moment, before he sits at his own stool and quietly resumes his work, only now with his silent companion.

The two engineers work in peaceful silence, loaded with something neither could speak of as the sun slowly rose and poured through the large windows of Tony’s lab. Jarvis implemented some shading without being instructed as the golds and pinks painted the tile floor. 

Neither says nothing for a long time until Tony finally sets his tool down, having finished that tedious part of his current task. Howard’s hands pause where they are still working, but he doesn’t look up, unwilling to pressure the boy into saying anything.

Tony swallows, pressing his palms against the steel, as if it could reassure or steady him. His legs tremble. His head still bowed, still staring at his work.

“I’m Tony Rogers-Stark.” His voice wobbles slightly as it finally breaks the now oppressive silence. 

He pushes back off the table and indicates to his work there, “I make neat stuff...” 

His legs shake as they step back a half step and he lifts his gaze to meet his mother’s for the first time in hours. He offers a weak smile, “I’ve got a great family…”

Howard offers him a small smile back but makes no move to interrupt the teen, content to listen for now. The boy takes a few cautious steps toward the windows and a mere thought has Jarvis opening the blinds.

It floods the room with the gold and rose hues that bleed into amber and orange, castings long shadows across the large room. Tony’s eyes marvel upon the image of a now once again whole New York painted with the pastels of sunrise. He turns back to Howard, and this gives the boy an ethereal glow as he stands in front of the wide windows.

“... and occasionally…” he takes a breath, “I save the world.”

He says it with an echo of finality as he stares at his son and his whiskey brown eyes fixate on him as the boy wrestles with something. There is silence before Tony lifts his chin.

“So… why can’t I sleep?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know it's still short. I'm sorry. 
> 
> This is mostly set up for the nest arc of this story which will be what we all know as Iron Man 3.
> 
> Thank you for reading! I really appreciate you all sticking with me. I cherish every review I get and your words really make my day. So thank you all so much!


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